


Choice

by orphan_account



Series: #OlicityWatch [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: #MeToo, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Explosions, F/M, Quentin Lance/Donna Smoak - Freeform, Roy Harper/Thea Queen - Freeform, Season 6 Fix-It, Secret Marriage, Social Media, Women helping Women, alternate season 5, anti-romance, anti-wedding hype, child-free Felicity, explicit descriptions of sexual harassment, fandom as villains, hostile work environments for women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 79,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everyone wants Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak to just make up, get married, and have babies. Lots of babies. As soon as possible. Regardless of what Felicity and Oliver actually want.It's overwhelming.And the recent series of threats and explosions in Star City might be related to it.The funny thing is: Oliver and Felicity are already married. But nobody knows. Not even their team.





	1. Prologue: Snip

**Author's Note:**

> Follows "Truth and Consequences," a year later. In the intervening time, Team Arrow has expanded to include Curtis, Rene, and Dinah.
> 
> There are two primary inspirations for this fic, and they change in importance as the fic goes on.
> 
> The first was the behavior of the Olicity fandom during Arrow season 5. I liked the season (despite being a fan of Oliver and Felicity as a couple; I thought its writing was more cohesive than any other season). But I didn't like the constant hate directed at Billy and Susan, and the constant demands for a reconciliation, a wedding, and babies. I tried to stay in my lane, and I tried to stay in my bubble. But it shrunk to a bubble containing only me, and the frustration festered. (Meanwhile, people were leaving comments on Truths and Consequences telling me how much better it was than season 5 - frustrating, because I realized that T&C had failed in important ways.) This fic is the result.
> 
> The second was the revelation of the sexual harassment of people working on the Arrowverse shows by Andrew Kreisberg, and the "not all men" response to the #MeToo revelations across the industry from Marc Guggenheim. This story has turned into a fic about sexual harassment and the stuff that women have to navigate. And maybe, if I pull it off well, about better possible responses by rich white men. (We'll see if Oliver ever really deserves to be called a hero or not.)

The glass crunched, rather than shattered, under Oliver's heel. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Oliver was surprised. He had broken a lot of glass over the years. But never like this.

The front of Oliver's mind was occupied by other things. By Martin Stein's voice, declaring the marriage to be legal. By Sara and the rest of her crew, crying _Mazel Tov_. By Felicity, crunching part of the glass under her own foot, looking at him and smiling.

Sara leaned against a wall as the others signed the marriage contract. Well, the few who weren't legally dead, not yet born, or escaped convicts in 2017, that is.

"Thea's going to be pissed that you didn't invite her," she said to Oliver.

"Felicity's mom will be, too," Oliver agreed. "And I just hope that John understands in the end."

"So why are you doing it this way, then? I mean, Martin runs a great wedding ceremony, but why do this in secret? And why ask us to go to the future before filing the paperwork?" Sara glanced at Oliver, then continued watching her crew.

"We're setting a trap," he said.

Sara frowned at him. "Usually if you set a trap, you want someone to take the bait," she said. "Which they can't do if they don't know that you and Felicity are married." 

"That's not the trap," Oliver said. "Us being unmarried... that's the trap."

Felicity joined them, kissed Oliver, and then nodded. 

"So why get married _now_?" Sara asked. "You could close the trap, then get married when everyone could be there."

Felicity shook her head. "We didn't want to wait," she said. "What if we waited, and the plan didn't work? Either or both of us might end up dead." 

Oliver nodded. It could easily happen, still.

***

~Two months earlier~

Crystal City's most prominent urologist was about to head home when his office lights went out. He flipped the switch, swore, and dug out his cell phone to see how widespread the power outage was. He was supposed to pick up some wine on the way home, but if the power was out, he wouldn't be able to use a credit card, and he wasn't carrying very much cash.

A light flickered back on, revealing a tall, masked figure in green leather.

"Wrong city," the urologist said.

"No, it's not," the Green Arrow replied in his famously modified voice. "Not if you're Dr. Simon Blackthorne."

Dr. Blackthorne looked at him suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"I need a vasectomy," the Green Arrow replied.

Dr. Blackthorne blinked. "You know that we can't process a insurance claim for 'The Green Arrow,'" he said. "You still need an insurance card."

"I brought cash," he said. 

"And backup," said a tall black guy with a T-shaped mask and corn-rows.

"Impatient backup," said another guy, this one wearing a hockey mask.

"Fine," Dr. Blackthorne said, looking at the gun brandished by the hockey mask guy. "Let me prep." He glanced at the man in green. "You can keep your mask on, but you'll need to remove your pants."

***

~one more month earlier~ 

"Hey," Oliver said, peeking his head into Felicity's office. "Your assistant was gone, so I let myself in." He held out a box. "I brought sushi."

Felicity looked at the box, first, and then looked at Oliver. Her hungry look was replaced by suspicion. It wasn't a good sign. But then, the signs hadn't been good for months. "If this is ANOTHER apology..."

Oliver shook his head, then stopped. "Not really." He paused. "Would it be ok if I shut the door?"

If anything, Felicity looked more suspicious. But she finally nodded.

Oliver turned back to the door and gathered his courage.

"I made an appointment for a vasectomy," he said. Well. That came out faster than he had anticipated.

Felicity blinked.

"You said you didn't want to have kids," Oliver tried to explain. "And you broke off the engagement because I didn't understand. And you didn't believe me when I apologized." 

"With good reason," Felicity said. "I don't trust guys who don't listen."

Oliver raised his hands in surrender. "I know," he said. "Which is why I decided to stop talking and do something."

"But you wanted kids..." Felicity said. 

"I want you more than I want kids." He shrugged helplessly.

"So this is your big romantic gesture to get me back...?" Felicity asked.

"No," Oliver said. "Well, yes. Kind of. But mostly it's supposed to be evidence that I listened. And I'm here because you also don't like it when I make big life decisions without including you." He looked at her questioningly.

She looked at him. "So if I asked, you would..." She made a scissors motion with her fingers.

Oliver nodded. "It's up to you." 

She didn't answer. Instead, she launched herself at him, pulling his head down and kissing him. 

Eventually, they had to separate so they could breathe.

Oliver raised his eyebrow. "So...?"

But before Felicity could answer, both of their phones buzzed.

Felicity read the message first. "Umm," she said. "Was your appointment with Urology Associates of Star City? Because it might be cancelled."

They each looked at the photos on their screens of the giant, flaming hole where the medical office building used to be.


	2. Exothermic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One point of clarification, based on a comment: Felicity is not going to change her mind about having children. That would undermine the entire point of the fic.
> 
> There are several things that women hear, over and over again, if they say they don't want children. "You'll change your mind!" is a big one. (The others are "you're selfish," "why do you hate children," and "but how could you deprive the world of the perfect beautiful geniuses that your children would become!") Felicity will hear versions of all those things during this fic. I'm not going to undermine her choices by having the "you'll change your mind!" turn out to be right.
> 
> Second thing: the Internet is not funny, or harmless, or even moderately nice in this fic. I'm not writing with the dark tone that I used in "Shadowed," but that doesn't mean this is a nice fic.
> 
> Third thing: I've added Susan to the list of characters, because she'll be here eventually. Billy shows up in this chapter.

Dinah dropped a package on Felicity's desk. "A red blur delivered this from the Central City Police Department," she said. "There wasn't a name on the outside, so I opened it. But it looks like it's for you." 

Felicity had been completely absorbed in working on her presentation for potential investors, but she looked up when Dinah spoke. "Thanks," she said.

"This might seem really intrusive," Dinah said, "but I read the results before I realized that it was for you. Someone has been replacing birth control pills with placebos?"

"Yes," Felicity said. "At my pharmacy. I thought something seemed odd when three separate girls came out of my gynecologist's office crying. There have been a lot of unexpected pregnancies... and they all got birth control prescriptions at the same place." 

Dinah frowned. "I haven't heard anything about this at the police department."

"They aren't interested in it," Felicity said. "I called the tip line, but the guy on the phone laughed at me." 

"It's strange, though, after that shipment of IUDs was blown up," Dinah mused.

"The police thought that one was interesting," Curtis said, placing a coffee on Felicity's desk as he entered the room. "But only until they realized that it wasn't actually a shipment of I _E_ Ds."

"I wonder who is sabotaging birth control," Dinah said. "There were all those explosions in medical office buildings earlier this year, too."

"Three, to be exact," Curtis added. "Every time Oliver made an appointment for a vasectomy, the office exploded before he got there. That's why he finally went to Crystal City to get it done."

Felicity nodded and kept working on her presentation.

"Which brings up an interesting point," Curtis said. "Felicity, why were you getting birth control pills?" He stopped and gasped. "You're not moving on. You can't be moving on from Oliver. Oh. My. God. The Internet will be furious."

"There are lots of other reasons why a woman might want birth control pills," Dinah pointed out.

"And besides, it's none of your business, Curtis," Felicity added. "Thanks, Dinah. I'll follow up on this." She turned back to Curtis. "And we've got a presentation to finish. Come on. This needs your input."

*** 

"Are you coming?" Curtis called from the door.

"I'll be along in a bit," Felicity said. "I need to run a few errands on the way. I've got my car. I'll meet you there."

"Ok," Curtis said. "But every time you do this, we lose points in the Green Business competition." He laughed. "I love that. _Green_ Business. Because our business is always green. You know?" 

Felicity waved him off. "We can walk to the next one. Promise."

As she drove across town, Felicity reviewed what they knew of the situation. Not the business presentation – she and Curtis had that down cold. The _other_ situation.

She wasn't sure exactly when, or how, it had all started. As soon as she had gotten engaged to Oliver for a second time, over a year ago, people had started tagging her on Twitter. _When's the wedding? What are the bridesmaids wearing?_ And then, when the news that they had broken up (again) got out, the messages had changed to _where's the ring?_ and _not again!!!!_ and _make up, don't break up!!!_

After a few months, she had gotten numb to it all. She blocked thousands of people on Twitter. She kept working as Overwatch. And she kept building the new company, with Curtis's help.

When the wedding magazines started arriving at their start-up, Felicity had thought it had been a prank from Curtis. She had just ignored them, until the box of books arrived. _What to Expect When You're Expecting_. Baby name books. And then there was a crate of folic acid supplements, with a print-out of a page of nutrition advice for women trying to get pregnant.

That's when she snapped. Yelled at Curtis. Yelled at Oliver. Yelled at Rene, who had just started working with them, and who had commented that _wow, I thought OLIVER was the mean one_.

And then her gynecologist had told Felicity that she needed to find another doctor. Apparently the doctor had gotten several suggestions – well, more like demands, or threats - about how she should treat Felicity's ticking biological clock. And then there had been an explosion in the gynecologist's parking garage. Not a big explosion. No direct links to the threats about Felicity. But under the circumstances, the doctor said she would rather be safe.

By the time Oliver had offered to get a vasectomy, Felicity was already jumping at noises. And then the urologists' offices were blown up... right after Oliver made each of his appointments. The mayor's office got a threatening letter, too, cut out of pieces of newspaper, telling him that the world needed beautiful blue-eyed Olicity babies.

Finally, Oliver got his vasectomy in Crystal City, and things seemed to quiet down. But then Felicity received a mysterious bouquet of flowers, coated in some kind of powder. (Oliver had put on a respirator and removed them immediately.) And then there was the surprise wedding invitation - with peanut oil on the envelope, which put Felicity in the hospital, even though Curtis had found her epipen.

After that one, there were photos of Oliver carrying her into the hospital posted all over the Internet. Felicity had to block even more people who tagged her with wedding questions.

And then investors started pulling their money out of Felicity's company, with comments about how it was too risky. (The Green Arrow paid them a visit, and they showed him their own threatening letters, all made of words cut out of a newspaper.)

Oh! And there were the other attacks on anything to do with birth control in Star City. First the exploding IUD shipment. And now they knew that the ineffective birth control pills had been an act of sabotage, as well.

So Felicity and Oliver had finally decided to fight back. The secret wedding had been the first step, in case everything went badly. And now... now the real trap was set.

It was time to end this, once and for all. Before someone got hurt.

(Or more hurt.)

*** 

Felicity parked on the street, near the front side of the building. Not in the parking garage. Yes, she needed change for the meter, but under the circumstances, it was a reasonable trade.

She walked around the building once, tablet out, hoping that she looked like she was memorizing her presentation. The wi-fi looked good. The camera feed looked good. Everything was ready.

When she was done, she stopped at a little store near the side of the building, bought a couple packages of breath mints, and pulled out her phone.

 _Showtime_ , she texted.

 _Be safe_ , Oliver replied. 

And then the building erupted into a giant fireball.

***

Curtis came running out of the emergency exit, carrying an unconscious body. "Did you call the fire department?" he asked. "Of course you called the fire department. Did you call Oliver?"

"He just texted me," Felicity said. She hadn't had time to answer before Curtis came out.

"There are more people in there," Curtis said. "Lots of people work through lunch here, I guess. I'm going back in."

Felicity had started rescue breathing on one of the unconscious people when the police and fire crews arrived.

"The EMTs can take over," Dinah said over Felicity's shoulder. "You ok?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I hadn't gone inside yet when the building exploded. But check on Curtis – he's been rescuing people without a ventilator."

"Figures," Dinah said. "You should get back and let the EMTs take over now."

Felicity stepped over the yellow tape and coughed. Maybe she _had_ been close enough for smoke inhalation to be a problem, after all. She walked through the gathering crowd to the place where she had parked her car. 

A man stopped her as she pulled out her keys. "Excuse me, ma'am. Is this your car?"

He looked deliberately non-descript. Probably a plainclothes cop, Felicity thought.

"Yes," she said politely. "Is there a problem?"

"Was your car... ummm... decorated? Before this?"

Felicity looked more closely at the car. Someone had wrapped white and silver streamers around it, with cans tied to them. It looked like a limo for newlyweds.

On the back window, where it normally would have said _Just Married_ , there was a message in white paint.

_Your Work Can't Love You Back._

_Bitch._

"No," Felicity said. "This is new."

"Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?" He pulled out a badge. "Detective William Malone, SCPD. Billy, for short."

Felicity nodded, mentally awarding herself points for observation. Oliver would be proud of her. "Felicity Smoak," she said.

"I know you from the news, Ms. Smoak," the detective said. "Your new business has been doing great things for this city in the past year."

"Thanks," Felicity said, wondering if Billy regularly played 'good cop,' and whether the bad cop would join him in a moment.

"Did you have business in there?" he asked, gesturing at the building.

"I had a presentation with some potential new investors scheduled for a little after noon," she said.

"Where were you when the explosion occurred?" he asked. "Were you inside?"

"No," Felicity replied. "I stopped to pick up some breath mints." She gestured at the bag that was halfway out of her laptop case.

"Lucky for you," Detective Malone commented. "But you headed for the building after it exploded."

"I lived in Star City through the earthquake, the terrorist attacks, and the collapse of the sewers," Felicity said. "In this city, we run towards danger. It's what keeps us going when things are bad."

Malone smiled. "That's a nice thought."

"Thanks," she said.

"The message on your car..." he said. "Do you have any idea what it's about?"

"I can guess," Felicity replied. "I said something on Twitter about loving my work so much that I might as well be married to it."

"And, what, some of your friends played a prank on you?" Malone looked at the car, as if it might be the next witness.

"Not my _friends_ ," Felicity said. "A few thousand people on Twitter started a hashtag campaign aimed at me. '#GetMarriedOlicity.'" She paused. "That's me and Oliver Queen. We used to be engaged. Twice."

"I was aware of that," Malone said. "But you're not engaged any more?"

"Nope," Felicity replied.

"Do you think the Mayor could have anything to do with this?" Malone asked.

"Definitely not," Felicity said. "This isn't his style."

***

The mayor had to make a statement about solving Star City's continuing problems with terrorism. Felicity had to give a few more statements to the police, and then wait for Curtis to finish giving his own statement, and then get a ride back to the office/bunker in Curtis's car. Detective Malone wrote down Felicity's cell number, and promised to let her know when they were done examining her car for evidence.

And then it was a few more hours before Oliver left City Hall and came back to the bunker.

And then the team fretted over the explosion, and argued about whether to investigate it themselves or let the police do the forensics. Felicity hacked the city crime lab so that the data would arrive on her screen before the CSIs had even seen it.

And then Felicity and Oliver waited for the rest of the team to go home.

John left early – he was still trying to make up for his time away from Lyla and little Sara, and as he said, a healthy marriage takes work. Dinah and Rene each headed home a little later, when it was clear that there weren't any obvious heads that needed punching at the moment. Curtis hung around, and wouldn't leave, and wanted to keep going over the details of the explosion. But finally, he was gone, too. 

Felicity started to open the file showing the surveillance footage from the exploded building, but before she could examine it, Oliver's hands were on her shoulders, spinning her around in her chair and pulling her up.

"I was so worried," he said into her hair. "They told me there were injuries, and you hadn't texted back..."

"There wasn't time," Felicity responded, pulling his face down into a kiss. "There weren't supposed to be many people in the building," she said, when they finally came up for air. "It was lunch break. And I've learned some basic first aid, I couldn't just..."

"I know," Oliver said, pulling off her blouse, then letting her unhook her bra.

She tried to yank his shirt over his head, but he had already picked her up and was carrying her towards the workout mat. _Fine_ , she thought. _I'll undress you when we're horizontal_.

*** 

Finally, they lay beside each other, breathing heavily.

" _'Thank goodness you didn't die'_ sex is pretty hot," Felicity said.

Oliver huffed a laugh. "I wish we had more _'everything is happy and peaceful and I just want to make love with my wife'_ sex," he replied.

"That might be nice," Felicity said. "Let's try it someday."

"Soon, I hope," Oliver agreed.

And then he rolled over, dug through the pile of discarded clothes, and handed her panties to her.

They dressed quickly. It probably wasn't necessary – Felicity had set several levels of proximity alarms in case the team decided to come back unexpectedly – but by this point, it was a habit. 

Oliver reached her computer before she did. _He dresses quickly in leather_ , she thought. _Of course he's faster at putting on a t-shirt and jeans._

"What do we have?" Felicity asked, looking over his shoulder at the screen. After sex, he got to sit in her chair. For a moment. It was kind of a turn-on, actually.

"I don't see anything." Oliver sounded frustrated. "Here, you take a look."

He stood, and Felicity reclaimed her normal position. She clicked through the videos, one at a time.

"Nothing," she said. "And I checked to make sure everything was working before the explosion, too. We have footage from the past 48 hours – from before Curtis and I scheduled the meeting. But there's still nothing there." She glared at the screen.

"What about outside?" Oliver asked. "Could they have set the charges someplace else?"

"I'll check the SCPD forensics lab and see what they say," Felicity said. "But from what I saw, the explosion started inside the building."

Oliver ran his hand through his hair. "I guess we'll need to..."

"... search all the footage of all the employees, in case it was one of them." Felicity tapped the keyboard. "Done. Though what are the odds that Curtis and I decided to visit a bunch of venture capitalists who are also obsessed with my marital status?"

"Are you sure that's what this was about?" Oliver asked. "Maybe it was a competing tech company..." 

"No," Felicity said. "I didn't show you the photos of my car. Look."

They stared at the words on the back window of her Mini.

"That looks like the work of our stalker," Oliver agreed. "Did the traffic cameras show anything?"

"Nothing," Felicity said. "But maybe the SCPD forensics lab will turn something up..."

"They're slow," Oliver said.

So they had another round of sex while they waited.

***

Felicity sat in front of her computer, a blanket wrapped around her naked shoulders.

"Anything?" Oliver asked as he pulled on his sweatpants.

"The residue from the explosives is the same as all the other times," Felicity said. "Same as all three of the urologists. The same as the truck delivering the IUDs. The same as my first gynecologist." She sighed. "Still completely untraceable."

"And the traffic cameras?" Oliver asked.

"Nothing," Felicity said. "I park; I get out of the car; I leave. And then there is nothing until the police arrive." She looked at Oliver. "It's a dead end. ANOTHER dead end. And this time, people got hurt." She turned back to the computer. "Next time..."

"We've got to keep there from being a _next time_ ," Oliver finished.


	3. Scraps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after Chapter 2. Oliver's POV.

The online photos showed the Mayor outside his apartment just before dinner, and leaving right after breakfast. Only the second group was real, but nobody knew. Felicity was that good.

Oliver finished his daily check of social media and leaned back in his chair. Everything was normal. Lots of gossip. Complaints about how he was spending the night at home, alone, AGAIN. No clues about the bombing. Sure, there was chatter about it – a lot of chatter. But nothing connected it to him.

Felicity would do her own Twitter check. It would probably be worse than his. After he had threatened to put an arrow into every person in her mentions, she had stopped reading them when he was around.

So all in all, it was a normal morning in Star City.

Oliver's phone buzzed. He looked at it, then answered.

"Hey, Speedy."

"I assume you aren't in a meeting, since you answered this," Thea replied. "You _have_ figured out at least that much professional etiquette. Right?"

"I thought I was the older one," Oliver grumbled. 

"Yes, but Mom used to roll her eyes about you behind your back, even after the island," Thea said. "Even after she figured out how you were really spending your nights."

"We don't talk about this at work," Oliver reminded her.

"I know," Thea said. "I'm actually calling about my work, believe it or not. Three of the bands that I'm promoting have just asked to cancel their Star City concerts."

After Thea had come home, she had turned her experience running a nightclub into work as a concert promoter. Oliver was quietly proud of it.

But that didn't mean that he understood the details of the business. "Don't they have a contract or something?"

Thea sighed. "They have lawyers. And apparently the threat of a terrorist attack is a good reason to break a contract."

"Wait. What?" Oliver shook his head at the phone.

"A terrorist attack. Like the one on the office building yesterday?" Thea sighed loudly enough to be heard over the background noise. "You even had a press conference about it."

"That wasn't..." Oliver stopped and rephrased his response. "That had nothing to do with nightclubs, Thea."

"One of the bands was going to play at the hockey rink," Thea said. "It was my big break into promoting bigger concerts."

"The hockey rink should be safe, too," Oliver assured her.

"Oliver, your press conference was short on details." It sounded like Thea was probably rolling her eyes. "Congratulations, by the way. You've become a politician after all."

"Thea," Oliver said.

"Ollie," she replied.

"Who did you hire for security?" Oliver asked. "Was it John's company?"

"Of course," Thea responded. "I'm not stupid. John's good, even if he hired that annoying Rene guy."

"Rene's learning," Oliver said. "And you know you can rely on John." 

"I do," Thea said. "But I can't exactly tell the band's manager my reasons."

Oliver sighed. "Do they need the mayor to vouch for their safety?"

"That would help," Thea said.

"Fine," Oliver said. "But you could have just asked."

Thea laughed. "No, I couldn't. Not if I wanted to be sure for myself."

"Bye, Thea," Oliver said.

"You remember that I can book bands for a wedding, too, right?" Thea hinted.

"You remind me, every time we talk," Oliver replied. "Have the band's manager call my office number."

"You're still my idiot brother," Thea said affectionately. "Are we still on for lunch?"

"See you at noon," Oliver replied.

* 

"The DA is here to see you," Oliver's assistant said.

"Thanks," Oliver replied. "Send him in."

Adrian Chase walked through the door and took his usual seat. "Thanks for meeting with me. You must be busy, with the latest attack and all."

"The police are working on it," Oliver said smoothly. He had perfected that line. "I'm sure they'll contact your office as soon as they have something for you."

"Yes," Adrian said. "But rumor has it that your fiancée was in the building at the time."

"Ex-fiancée," Oliver corrected him.

"Right," Adrian said. "But you still talk to her. Did she tell you anything about it?"

"I've been busy," Oliver replied. "And I'm sure she'd agree with me when I say that the police can handle it." 

"Sure," Adrian said. "What about the other explosions? Do the police think that they're linked?"

Oliver sighed. "Nothing yet, Adrian." He moved his pen a fraction of an inch to the right. "When there's something to prosecute, you'll be the first to know." 

"I hope so," Adrian said, standing. "Have a good day."

"You too," Oliver replied.

*

The head of the Public Works department was a bit frazzled. Star City budgeted more for street repairs than most cities its size, given its tendency to be attacked every May. But the string of explosions meant they were spending down their money too fast, and who knows what might be attacked next. Oliver tried to calm him down, but then he discovered that the man's sister had been in the building next door to the explosion.

After sending the man home, Oliver pulled out his phone and texted Felicity. It had been hours. She probably knew something.

 _Hey_ , Felicity responded. _Nothing so far_.

Oliver sighed. _How's Curtis?_ he texted.

 _Coughing dramatically_ , Felicity replied. _I sent him to the doctor. And to check in with Paul while he's there._

 _You're alone?_ Oliver typed. _So am I._

 _Oliver, are you trying to sext me from the mayor's office?_ Felicity responded. _Because that's kind of hot, but maybe a bad idea._

 _Maybe,_ Oliver agreed.

Oliver waited, maybe a little impatiently, for a response.

 _I'm working through all the video feeds one more time while Curtis is gone,_ Felicity finally replied. _I'll text you if I find anything._

*

After dark, John helped Oliver check the damaged building for clues. The police had been thorough, but it was still easy to get past the yellow tape without being noticed.

"Do you think they really don't see you?" Felicity said in their ears. "Or are they just pretending at this point?"

John chuckled softly through the comms.

"Does it matter, as long as we can get inside?" Oliver asked as he slid down his zip line from the other side of the street.

The emergency stairs were both in good shape, so Oliver and John each took one end of the building and worked through its four stories. On each floor, they met in the middle. When Oliver got to the venture capital office, he made a point of going through it himself. 

John gave him an amused look. 

"I just want to check," Oliver said, raising his hands in surrender. "I can still check."

"How does Felicity feel about that?" John asked.

"I'm right here," Felicity interrupted. "Well, not literally here. As in where you are. But your comms are live."

"And..." John asked.

"I trust both the Green Arrow AND Spartan to get the job done. As long as you aren't busy chatting with me."

While John was busy chuckling, Oliver quickly surveyed the room. This was definitely where the explosion had gone off, and the police had clearly been through here repeatedly. But he still opened each of the desk drawers, just to be sure.

Everything was lined up neatly. Either the police were as obsessive about office supplies as Oliver was, or they hadn't gone through _everything_ here.

Oliver was about to close the drawer when it caught on something. He opened it again, and saw the corner of a piece of paper stuck on the side of the drawer.

He pulled the paper out and smoothed it flat.

 _sMOak TEchNoloGies is A BAd iNVestMent_ , it said.

The letters were cut from a newspaper. 

Just like all the others.

Oliver carefully folded it and tucked it into an inside pocket before John could see what he had found.

*

Oliver preferred the nights when the team came back late, then immediately headed for home. The bunker would be empty before he changed out of his leathers.

Empty except for Felicity.

She would walk towards him, slowly, not taking her eyes off him. He would hold himself completely still while she unzipped his jacket, pulled off his t-shirt, and finally undid his pants.

This was one of those nights.

Afterwards, they lay on the workout mats, breathing, resting a bit before picking up Oliver's discarded suit. Felicity had a strand of hair hanging over her eyes. Oliver smoothed it out of the way, then traced the line between her eyebrows.

"You're thinking," Oliver said.

"I'm always thinking," Felicity replied.

"I know," Oliver said. "It's one of the things I love about you."

Felicity was silent. Maybe she was getting accustomed to him saying things like that – he did say them a lot, when they were alone – but normally she would say something.

"Ok." Oliver sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just trying to put the pieces together," Felicity said. "We've got notes. We've got residue from the explosives. We've got camera feeds that have CLEARLY been tampered with – not just the security cameras in the building, but the traffic cameras, too."

Oliver scrubbed his head with his hands. "And...?"

"And the motive still seems to be about pressuring us to get married," Felicity said. "Though maybe hating my company, too. Or hating me working with my company. But..." She made a gesture like she was cutting herself off. "I'm just not sure where to go with this." 

"Maybe we should bring in the rest of the team," Oliver suggested.

Felicity smiled at him. "First, can I just tell you how much I love the fact that YOU brought up the team?"

Oliver ducked his head and grinned at her.

"But you know why we can't," Felicity said. "Not with this."

Oliver nodded. "Curtis talks too much," he started. "And tweets too much."

"Rene acts without thinking," Felicity continued. "And Dinah's just too new. I don't have a handle on her yet. And John..."

"We couldn't tell John just one part of it," Oliver said. "If we told him about the bombing clues, he would figure everything else out. You didn't see his face out there, before I found the note in that office."

"I heard his voice," Felicity agreed. "And there's no way he would let us keep investigating like this. He's already told me that I shouldn't have set myself up as bait last year in Boston, while he was gone."

"So... no on the team," Oliver concluded. 

"No on the team," Felicity agreed. "We need to keep working the clues ourselves."

And with that, she cuddled up against him. It would only be a few hours before the alarm went off and they would have to slip through the silent streets to their separate apartments, ready to put on their morning show for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's comment about "last year, in Boston" refers to events in "Truths and Consequences."


	4. Electric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next day. Felicity's POV.

Felicity had to get to the office early if she wanted to start any big searches on the bunker workstations before Curtis arrived. And she had one massive search to do. She had blocked thousands of people on Twitter... and any of them could be responsible for the bombings.

So the search: sift through all the people she had blocked. Find all their other Internet identities. Sort through every single geotagged record from the day of the explosion. Narrow them down to everyone who had been in Star City on that day.

And then? Well, once she had filtered the possible suspects, she could see if facial recognition helped. Yes, someone had tampered with the security cameras around the explosion. But there was an entire city full of traffic cameras. Her bomber couldn't have wiped them all, not for the entire day before the attack.

She could have automated everything – set up the search parameters and let it go. She didn't have to look at her mentions.

Felicity looked.

And immediately regretted it. There were so many people speculating about whether she had gained weight in the past week! And that's before she got to the bad Photoshop work and the discussion of hair dyes, or the continuing trickle of death threats from people who had been caught by her anti-doxxing software. 

It took an effort to look away, but finally she closed Twitter and walked down the street to get some coffee. Maybe if she got Curtis caffeinated early enough, he would forget to ask her about the rumors that her latest hair style meant that she was getting back together with Oliver.

*

Curtis was already in and checking his e-mail when Felicity arrived with coffee.

"Oh, fantastic," he said. "This will make the news a lot better."

"What news?" Felicity asked. Dread settled in her stomach like the aftermath of bad sushi.

"The company that got bombed... they aren't interested in re-scheduling our presentation. Thanks, but no thanks." Curtis grimaced.

Felicity looked over his shoulder.

"Not in so many words," Curtis amended.

"They definitely aren't interested in us any more," Felicity agreed, after parsing the dense corporate-speak.

"But it's not all bad," Curtis said.

Felicity glanced at his cup.

"I haven't even started drinking the coffee yet!" Curtis protested. "No, this one is an invitation to send more information. From one of the out-of-state companies."

"Huh," Felicity said, reading the company name from Curtis' in-box. "I already contacted that group last spring. They sent a generic 'no thanks.' Did you send them a new proposal?"

"New?" Curtis looked surprised. "You think I've had time to write, between the day job and the night job?"

Felicity shook her head. "No. That's why I was surprised. So what was different?"

Curtis opened the response e-mail. 

Felicity frowned at it, then shook her head. " _Dear Curtis_ ," she read. "Oh."

"Oh," Curtis agreed. "Wait 'til they find out that I'm Black."

Felicity sighed. "We've got a good product. And we've got a track record. But we just can't get the financing."

Curtis shrugged. "Maybe it would help if our primary client wasn't a government agency that's so secret, nobody has heard of it."

"At least ARGUS has kept us going for a while." Felicity slumped into her chair. "We just need a little more funding to hire a few more people, and then we'll be able to grow."

Curtis glanced at her. "You're not going to like my suggestion."

"Then don't say it," Felicity said. 

"If you would just marry Oliver and use his name on everything..." Curtis started.

"NO. Curtis, NO." She shook her head until she felt dizzy. "You know how I feel about that."

"About which?" Curtis said. "Because the way he was looking at you last night..."

"CURTIS!!" Felicity finally pulled out the Loud Voice. "NO."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Ok. Fine. I'm just saying that you've got a hot white ex-billionaire who still wants to marry you..."

"CURTIS!" 

He grabbed his coffee and held it to his chest.

Felicity breathed three times and visualized alpine meadows. 

Curtis nodded. "Better?"

"Better," Felicity said. "But we're going to get funding on the strength of our ideas." 

"And your MIT degree," Curtis added.

"And your Stanford degree," Felicity finished.

They bumped fists, pounded their coffee, and got back to work.

*

Felicity was in the middle of a tricky bit of coding when her phone buzzed. 

She picked it up without looking at it. "Hi," she said. "I'm kind of busy right now..."

"Sorry," said a male voice on the other end. "Is this Felicity Smoak?" 

"Oh! Yes, it is," she said, looking at the unfamiliar local number. "Didn't mean to be rude. I answered without looking. What can I do for you?" 

"This is Detective Malone. I met you the other day."

"Oh!" Felicity said. "Outside the explosion. Yes. What can I do for you, Detective?"

"Actually, I'm calling about what _I_ can do for _you_ ," he said. "Or what the department already has done. We kept your car, Ms. Smoak. But we're done with it now. You can come by the precinct and pick it up."

"Thank you," Felicity said. "Can I come by in an hour or so? There's just this one bug..." 

The detective laughed. "That will be fine. Whenever it's convenient for you. Though plan for a lot of time," he added. "There will be paperwork."

"There always is," Felicity replied. 

*

Curtis gave her a ride to the precinct. She was wearing comfortable shoes, but she had already walked from the bunker to her apartment and back in the early morning, despite Oliver's offer of a ride on his motorcycle. If someone got a 3 am photo of her riding behind the Mayor... all the Photoshop skill in the world wouldn't erase it from the Internet's memory. 

But with her gay co-worker... she could ride in a car. And discuss his ideas for a more efficient electric vehicle.

Detective Malone was standing near the front desk when she arrived. "I'll handle this," he said to the assistant as he grabbed a stack of papers. 

"You weren't kidding about the paperwork," Felicity said, flipping through it.

"You can fill out some of it in here," Malone said, "but you'll want to take a look at the car first."

He led the way into a back stairwell. Felicity didn't tell him just how familiar she was with the place. Besides, she had never picked up an impounded vehicle before, so she did actually need him to guide her. 

"We didn't clean it off," Malone said, stepping aside so she could see it. "Sorry. But there's a car wash just down the street."

"That's fine," Felicity said, walking around to look at it from the side. "Do you have any idea who did it?"

"None." Malone shrugged. "My boss says it's just a harmless prank. Probably some friends of yours. That's why we can let you have it back already." 

"Were there any footprints around it? Or fingerprints on it?" Felicity asked.

Malone looked skeptically at her. "Are you trying to get the police to solve your practical joke problems, Ms. Smoak?"

"Oh, no!" Felicity exclaimed, mentally backpedaling as fast as possible. "Just curious about clues." She mimed holding up a giant magnifying glass. "I... ummm... love mysteries. Read them every night."

"Really?" Malone perked up. "Me too. That's actually what made me want to be a detective." He laughed. "Reading them at night is dangerous, though." 

"Really?" Felicity tried to imagine how reading a novel could involve bomb threats, or superviruses, or any of the other things that she worried about at night. 

"I start reading them, and I can't put them down." Malone grinned. "They need to be solved." 

Felicity nodded. "Yes. They do." She frowned at her car. 

Malone coughed. "The form on the top acknowledges that the police department is not financially responsible for any damage to the vehicle," he said. "And the second one says when you took possession of the vehicle again." 

Felicity scrawled her signature on each form. "Do you have any other questions about the bombing?" 

"None for you," Malone said. "I got everything we needed the other day. You're free to go." 

"Any idea who was responsible for it?" Felicity asked. "For the bombing, I mean." 

"That's an active police investigation, Ms. Smoak," Malone replied.

"I know," Felicity said. "It's just..." She mimed her giant magnifying glass again.

Malone smiled. "Sure. But all I can say is that we're doing our best to solve it."

"Well," Felicity said. "If you have any more questions for me – or leads about my car – you've got my number."

Malone's smile got a little wider. "I do."

* 

Felicity parked her Mini in the garage under the lair. It would be safe from tampering there – and she could do some more forensic work when she had time. 

Of course, there were a lot of double-takes and open stares when she drove across the city in a tiny car festooned with white and silver streamers. But if the police weren't going to do the analysis, she didn't have much choice.

She stopped at the bunker workstation on the way upstairs. It was still humming away, checking the whereabouts of every person who had hassled her on social media. And yes, she was aware that was a violation of their privacy, and a weird activity for the person who had written the most-used anti-doxxing software... but somewhere between working with the Green Arrow and going out for coffee with the head of ARGUS, she had lost all interest in arguing about moral purity. Even with the voices in her head.

And that meant that she was in a particularly grouchy mood when she got upstairs. 

"You were right," Curtis called from his computer. "We've already been rejected by our latest venture capital lead."

"Of course I'm right," Felicity said, twirling her chair as she sat down. "Which is why updating our work plan is the most frustrating thing in the world."

"You could work on the load-balancing code," Curtis said. "We won't be able to sell the newest round of batteries to electrical utilities unless they're part of a package."

"Right," Felicity replied. "Because the utilities still think that they need gigantic piles of coal for baseline power. And what they _really_ need is good coding to let them know where electricity is being generated and where it's being used." She spun her chair in frustration. "And that's what I've been saying in our proposals to anyone who might fund this. For the PAST. SIX. MONTHS. But I don't have time to do all the coding myself AND write the proposals to get the funding that we need to hire someone to help do the coding."

Felicity's phone buzzed with a text message. 

 _You free?_ Oliver asked. 

 _No,_ she typed quickly. _Curtis is here_.

He texted a sad-face emoji in response.

If anyone realized just how schmoopy the Green Arrow was in real life... well, fortunately that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Felicity turned back to her workstation and started coding. The world needs electricity, she reminded herself. 

*

Curtis headed out later in the day, to check on the progress in the factory where the batteries were going to be produced. Inventing was one thing. Developing a process to mass-produce the product? That was a different kind of job. Curtis wasn't great at it, but until they had more stable funding, they both needed to wear multiple hats.

Oliver didn't reply to her text, and the load-balancing code needed to compile before she could test it, so Felicity went down into the bunker to check the progress on her other job – the one involving sifting through all of her social media stalkers.

There were matches. 

Hundreds of them. 

The people whom she had blocked were posting pictures of their kids on Facebook, or were playing with filters on Snapchat, or were sharing videos of their road trips on Instagram. They didn't even seem like awful people, really, except for the things that they had said to her. And in the past week, at least 400 of them had been in Star City. And 200 of those had been within a five-block radius of the exploded building in the last couple days.

Felicity sighed. She needed a better filter.

She tried to cheer herself up by going down to her Mini and scraping some of the markings off of the back. Just so she could analyze the composition of it. Not because it bothered her to have the word "bitch" on the back of her car.

When she got back upstairs, her code had finished compiling. She put in a pair of earbuds, blocked out humanity, and started testing it.

* 

It was late in the afternoon by the time Curtis got back. Felicity turned off her music and spun to face him.

"How's the factory?" she asked.

"Something's going completely wrong with the layering of the alloys, and I don't know what it is," Curtis replied. 

"Frak," Felicity said. "So what next?"

"Well, I think we need to hire a metallurgist," Curtis said. "Or a materials scientist. Or somebody who is better at this than I am."

Felicity's heart sank. "We don't have the funding to hire someone else right now," she said. "Is there a grad student that we could pay in beer or something?"

"We won't need to," Curtis said, "because we've got funding."

"Wait," Felicity said. "What?" 

Curtis placed an envelope on her desk. 

"I hope this is worth that flourish," Felicity said, while pulling the paper out of the envelope.

"Oh, it is," Curtis said. "Read it."

"Entrepreneur of the Year?" Felicity stared at it. "Me?" 

"And it's not just a plaque," Curtis added. "Did you see the part about the monetary award?" 

Felicity nodded. "And the funding comes immediately?" 

Curtis bounced on the balls of his feet. "I know! And it's enough to hire your programmer PLUS a metallurgist."

Felicity read through the letter again. "I wonder who nominated us for this?"

Curtis grinned. "You've got an admirer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of villains in this story. Billy Malone is not one of them.


	5. Newsworthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afternoon of the same day as the previous chapter. Oliver's POV.

That afternoon, there was a press conference scheduled to update the city about the explosion. It wasn't the perfect time to get on the evening news, but hopefully it would reduce some of the panic that was driving business and tourists away from Star City.

Before facing the press, Oliver met with the police chief and Adrian Chase to go through the details. The police didn't have any news to share, but they were willing to back up Oliver's attempt to be reassuring. And he needed all the support he could get.

It was a small crowd of reporters, in the briefing room at City Hall rather than outside on the steps. That was good, at least. A fairly controlled situation. Fewer opportunities for snipers, or for being blindsided by surprise questions.

Oliver stepped to the mic and gave his speech. Mostly the usual – the city was doing everything it could to apprehend the criminals responsible, and meanwhile, the city was open for business. Star City had heart and spirit, and nothing could stop it.

"I love this city," Oliver ended, and stepped aside to let the police chief talk about the investigation.

The chief's update was typical, too. The police were following several leads, but they had not made any arrests at this time. However, there was no reason to believe that this was part of a larger pattern – everything indicated that it was an isolated incident. People could continue going about their business without fear.

And then it was time for questions.

_Was there any truth to rumors that ISIS had claimed responsibility for this bombing?_

_The police said that there hadn't been any arrests. But had any persons of interest been detained?_

_Was there any connection between this bombing and the others earlier in the summer?_

"No," the police chief said.

"The bombings seem very similar," the dark-haired woman continued. "How can the public be confident that there isn't a pattern that you're missing?"

"There is no pattern," the police chief re-iterated, and turned to the next question.

After the press conference had ended – with an assurance from Adrian Chase that the city prosecutors would not rest until the perpetrators were behind bars – Oliver found himself standing beside the dark-haired woman reporter.

"Susan Williams," she said, extending a hand. "I don't think we've ever been introduced, Mr. Mayor."

Oliver shook her hand. "That was an interesting question you asked."

Susan gave him a sidelong look. "Don't you ever wonder about the strings of crimes that we have in this city?" she asked. "Bombings, subway collapses. Assassinations." She turned to watch Adrian Chase talk to the police chief. "Don't you ever worry that being Star City's mayor is a dangerous job, Mr. Queen?"

"It may be dangerous," Oliver conceded, "but it's worth it."

"That's a well-rehearsed answer," Susan replied. "What do you think about the bombings?"

"I think that the police are doing their best to get to the bottom of them," Oliver said. "But you seem to think otherwise. What information do you have that they don't?"

Susan nodded, as if acknowledging a point. It wasn't clear who had scored it. "I don't reveal my sources, Mr. Queen," she said. "But in this case, I have a gut feeling. Plus, I've got a personal interest in the story. I was heading for an appointment with my doctor when the first of the bombs went off. She was pretty shaken by it." She gave Oliver an unreadable look.

"Well, Ms. Williams," Oliver said, "if you have any leads, I'm sure the police would be happy to hear about them."

She coughed and turned away from them. "I doubt it," she said.

"Well, I'd be happy to follow up, then," Oliver offered.

Susan looked carefully at him. "I might take you up on that." She pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled on it. "And if you think of anything new to share, this is my number." She paused. "My personal number. My boss doesn't think this story is worth pursuing."

*

Oliver went back to his apartment and ate some dinner before heading for the bunker. That was the usual routine, if there wasn't an emergency: as Felicity had pointed out, it was better to have actual witnesses who had seen him heading to his official home, rather than constantly relying on her Photoshop work.

And then he changed into jeans and his leather jacket, put on his helmet, and climbed onto his motorcycle. For a few brief, wind-whipped moments, he wasn't the mayor, or the Green Arrow. He was just a guy on a bike, flying through the city to see the woman he loved.

It never lasted long. Oliver parked his bike under the bunker, beside Felicity's Mini, and headed upstairs.

There was a loud thumping sound from the ground floor. Oliver could hear it even through the bunker's sound-dampening ceiling. He stopped and grabbed one of the guns, making sure it was loaded and cocked, before getting into the elevator.

He stepped out into a world made of glitter.

Not glitter, exactly. But there was a disco ball hanging from the ceiling of the old campaign office, and lights were flashing to the music pounding through a set of speakers. Little Sara Diggle was dancing in the middle of the floor, occasionally grabbing her father's hands and swinging from them. Rene's daughter Zoe was there, too, bobbing her head like a typically shy pre-teen. As Oliver watched, Sara and John pulled Zoe into a circle and spun her around the floor. Thea was on a chair, attaching a balloon to the side of a banner that said CONGRATULATIONS.

Lyla met Oliver at the elevator door. "I'll open the upstairs gun safe," she said. " _No Glocks at the party_. Family rule." She put down the bottle of wine that she was carrying so that she could spin the lock.

Oliver glanced around, trying to make sense of the party that had taken over Felicity's office. "What's going on?"

"Felicity was just named 'Entrepreneur of the Year,'" Lyla said. "Thea was watching your press conference on the news, and caught the announcement in the next segment."

"And Thea Queen does NOT miss a chance to plan a party," Thea said, dancing past Oliver and Lyla. She picked up her glass of wine and continued across the room.

Felicity, Curtis, and Dinah walked into the room, hands full of glasses. "I knew we had some champagne flutes around here somewhere," Felicity said. She looked flushed, as if Lyla and Thea had already been plying her with wine.

Curtis set his flutes down and walked over to Oliver and Lyla. "Time to 'fess up, Oliver," he said. "You're the one who secretly nominated Felicity. Right?"

Oliver shook his head. "I don't even know who makes the decisions about Entrepreneur of the Year," he said. "I just get an invitation to the award ceremony."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Thea sang. Somehow, planning a party and drinking Lyla's wine had turned her back into a six-year-old. 

"I didn't do it," Oliver said. He watched Felicity as Sara dragged her onto the dance floor. Sara shook her head from side to side, then clapped her hands when Felicity made her pony tail swing in a circle.

Rene walked over to deliver champagne. "They really are something, aren't they?" he asked Oliver, watching the kids dance. "Wish you hadn't done the _snip_ , after all?" He mimed scissors with his free hand.

Oliver caught Felicity's eye and lifted his champagne to her. "I don't regret a thing."

*

The party ended gradually. Sara suddenly went from dancing to crying, and John picked her up, whispered a few things in her ear, and carried her outside.

Lyla followed him, but not before she stopped to talk to Oliver. "ARGUS will help with security at the award ceremony," she said.

"You think something's strange?" Oliver asked. 

"I think that one of our best contractors is going to be in the center of a very public event, and this city has a history of trouble," Lyla said. "Felicity knows too much top-secret information. We'll always watch out for her."

Oliver was secretly relieved. He might be the mayor, but there were some things that he wouldn't trust to the police. 

Rene and Zoe were the next ones to head out. "Zoe's staying at her mother's tonight," he said. "I just got allowed to share custody. I can't risk keeping her out too late." 

"Good to see that something makes you behave," Felicity said.

"Congratulations again, Blondie," Rene replied.

"Don't call her that," Zoe said, pulling on his hand. "She said she didn't like it."

"Atta girl," Felicity said. "Any time you want to practice coding, let me know."

Zoe gave her a fist bump and followed her father outside.

Thea, Dinah, and Curtis stayed to help clean up. Thea nudged Oliver and gave him a wink, but left without saying anything. Curtis tried to give Felicity a ride back to the loft, but she reminded him that her Mini was parked under the bunker.

And then, Oliver and Felicity were free. 

*

Oliver lay naked on the mat in the bunker, watching Felicity try to untangle her hair. Finally, he sat up.

"Want some help?" he asked. She handed him her brush.

"Thank you," she said, leaning back as if the brush was a caress.

They sat there a moment, silent except for the sound of the brush on Felicity's hair.

Finally, she twisted around and looked at him. "Who do you think nominated me for Entrepreneur of the Year?" she asked. "Doesn't it feel suspicious?" 

Oliver thought for a moment as he worked a few strands apart. "Maybe someone appreciates the work that you do," he said finally.

Felicity turned to face him head-on. "Really?"

Oliver shrugged. "Maybe."

Felicity shook her head at him. "When did you become Mr. Optimist?" she asked. "Don't tell me it comes with being the mayor. I saw you when you started the job."

Oliver leaned back on his arms. "Do you want a serious answer?"

Felicity nodded. "Yes. Mostly totally serious." She grinned at him. "There was a lot of wine at that party. And I like watching your arms when you lean like that."

Oliver watched her smile. "I think... I think it happened gradually." He paused. "Every time you said _yes_."

Felicity grabbed his discarded shirt and threw it at him. "That is the worst line I've ever heard."

He pulled the shirt off the shoulder where it had landed, then shrugged.

"But it's also kind of hot." And suddenly she was climbing onto him again, and he had more opportunities to hear her say _yes_.

* 

Felicity stopped halfway through buttoning her blouse. Oliver enjoyed the view, but then he noticed that she was looking at her phone. 

"What is it?" Oliver asked, wondering whether he should put on the leather pants instead of his jeans.

"Nothing," Felicity said in a voice that implied that it was not _nothing_. Not one bit.

Oliver stood and looked over her shoulder. Someone had posted a photo of him holding a plaque, wearing a tux, standing beside Felicity...

...she didn't own a dress like that. Oliver would remember if she did.

"It's just another bad Photoshop job. Our _friends_ are fantasizing about the award ceremony already," she said.

He picked up his own phone and scrolled through his mentions. There were the usual "Mayor McHottie" comments, this time with screen captures from the press conference. There were some questions about how the city was going to handle the latest round of terrorism, and arguments about whether he and the police chief and Adrian Chase had given any real information or not. There were a couple conspiracy theories that the bombings were the work of aliens from another dimension.

And there were a lot of copies of that same Photoshopped picture of him and Felicity. 

 _HEART EYES!!!!_ That one was re-tweeted about 4000 times.

_They look so good together!!!_

_Look at that height difference!!_ That one was followed by a variety of emojis. Different ones each time.

_You don't love STAR City. You love FELIcity._

_Look at that dress. Is she pregnant???_

_Don't you think she's beautiful???_

_Tell her that she's beautiful!!_

That one was re-tweeted 500 times, and then it was quoted once:

 _Or else._  

The threat had 7000 re-tweets already. And it had only been posted for an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are thousands of villains in this story. Susan Williams - like Billy Malone - is not one of them.
> 
> Rene is divorced; Zoe's mother is alive in this fic. Sometimes it seems as though Hollywood thinks that the only way that a father can be involved with his kid is if the mother is dead. That's... horrifying. I'm not going to contribute to that trope.


	6. Circumstantial Evidence

Felicity had to respond to a lot of congratulatory e-mails and texts. Which fell into the category of "good problems to have," as Curtis pointed out. And then she and Curtis wrote a job description for a new programmer and posted it on every local site they could think of.

"It would be nice to hire someone who's already in the city," Felicity said.

"Because they could start right away?" Curtis asked.

"And because I'd like the company's growth to benefit the community," Felicity said.

"See, now this is why I still think Oliver nominated you," Curtis said. "That sounds like something he would say."

"Maybe we just think alike," Felicity said. 

"Which is why you... _belong together_..." Curtis sang.

Felicity waved him off and sent an e-mail to the computer science departments at all the local colleges.

*

Felicity's phone buzzed again.

"Someone was late seeing the news," she said to herself – out loud, because she was alone, and why not? - and picked up the phone.

 _It's Billy Malone_ , the message said. _I've got something for you. It's about your mystery_.

 _Yes?_ Felicity typed back.

 _Are you free later this morning_? Malone texted. _If so, meet me at 4320 Whelan_.

 _Jitters?_ Felicity texted. _I can be there at 10_.

 _See you there_ , Malone replied.

*

The coffee shop was fairly quiet. A few people were working at tables in the back, but the line was short. Felicity didn't see the detective, but she needed coffee anyway, so she just got in line.

She had just finished paying and was waiting for her drink when Malone arrived. Felicity waved, and he nodded, then ordered his own drink. Felicity grabbed a table near the window and sipped her mocha.

"So, Detective," Felicity said.

"Please, call me Billy," Malone said. "I'm off duty right now."

"Well, then, you can call me Felicity," she replied. "Thanks for using your free time to help with my..." she mimed her giant magnifying glass.

"It's my pleasure," Malone... no, Billy... smiled. He took a sip. "Coffee's great here, isn't it."

Felicity nodded. "It's my favorite," she said. 

"I saw the news about your big award," Billy said. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," Felicity replied. She wondered where this was going.

"They said that you sold that algorithm to Google – the one that fixed all the bad directions that used to get tourists lost," he said. "They said you used... satellite pictures? But you did something to them." He fumbled, then shrugged, like he didn't know what to say about it. "That's amazing. The emergency services listserv talks about it all the time. You've saved a lot of lives." 

 _Listservs_ , Felicity thought with an internal grimace. _Really?_ She knew she should appreciate the compliment, though, so she just stayed silent.

Billy sipped his coffee, then dug into his pocket. "I've got something for you," he said.

He kept whatever-it-was concealed until Felicity held out her hand for it. Billy dropped something small – a tiny flash drive – into her palm. 

"I took photos of the ground around your car with my own phone," Billy said. "There weren't any obvious tracks, and the chief didn't think that angle was worth pursuing. But you're an expert at working with digital photos. Maybe you'll find something."

"Thank you," Felicity said. "But – this might be weird to ask - but why are you helping with this, if your boss doesn't want you to?" 

"You've done a lot to help other people," Billy said. "I couldn't see why anyone would call you a 'bitch.' It just seemed suspicious, given the explosion and everything." He shrugged. "Intuition, maybe, but I've learned to pay attention to it. Sometimes intuition is the biggest clue we have to follow."

* 

Curtis went back out to the factory after lunch. And that meant Felicity had a little time alone. Which meant...

 _Hey,_ Felicity texted. 

 _I'm free for a bit,_ Oliver responded immediately. _What's up?_

 _Got more info to work on,_ Felicity responded. _But no results yet._

 _Ah,_ Oliver responded. His text seemed uncertain. Could a text sound uncertain?

 _Getting resumes, too,_ Felicity continued. 

 _???_ Oliver responded.

 _To hire someone,_ Felicity explained. _For the company._

 _Oh._ Oliver's text definitely sounded confused.

 _Just trying to fit the pieces together,_ Felicity said. _Plus I miss you._

 _Miss you too,_ Oliver responded.

Felicity started to respond, but another text arrived.

 _Meeting is about to start_ , Oliver texted. _See you tonight_.

* 

The resumes started to arrive.

Felicity took a break from coding to look at them. There were some very confident people in the group. Very, very confident people. Hard to tell exactly what they had done from their resumes, but skill and experience weren't necessarily the same thing. And sometimes the best experience was the sort of thing that one couldn't put on a resume.

Felicity knew that last point maybe a bit too well.

She saved the resumes, and then dumped the promising ones into a folder. Maybe they could call people for interviews tomorrow.

That put her in a good enough mood to go down to the bunker and start running image analysis on the photos from Detective Malone. ( _Billy_ , she reminded herself. But the more formal address felt better. She could still call him _Detective Malone_ in her head. Right?) There wasn't much to go on, but there were photos from different angles, and she could try combining them to see if any trace of a footprint showed up. It was a long shot, but she had found even more subtle clues before.

And that reminded her that she had a sample of the paint that had been used on her car. She ran some through the chromatograph, and then smeared some on a slide for the x-ray diffractometer. And yes, she was putting together an entire duplicate forensics lab in the basement of the bunker, and Barry Allen would probably give her crap about it all day if he found out. But it wasn't like running these kinds of samples was even that hard. 

She let the samples run and stared at the image analysis for a while longer. Nothing was resolving, even with overlaying the images and enhancing the contrast. Well, it had been dry the night before the explosion, and the street looked cleanly swept. Not much to go on.

Maybe chemistry would be more productive. She ran back down to the lab and checked the chromatography results. Iron, titanium... like pretty much every red pigment out there. But there was more detail from the x-ray diffraction: mica, hematite, titanium oxide.

Ah ha.

 _Of course_ , Felicity thought. Of course someone had written _bitch_ on the back window of her car with a paint made from lipstick. 

* 

Felicity was back at her office computer, coding away, when Curtis got back from the factory.

"Hey," Felicity said. "Want to look at some resumes with me? There are some pretty impressive people coming out of the university. Though I guess we'll have to see how they do on the practical interview." She frowned. "What do you think we should have them do? We don't want to give away business secrets, but we want to make sure they can do the work."

Curtis took off his jacket and handed her his phone. "I don't know," he said. "But I want to know why you've suddenly started dating some police detective."

"Dating?" Felicity asked, confused. 

"There's photographic evidence," Curtis said. "You can't hide this any more." He pointed to the screen of his phone.

There, in the middle of Curtis's Twitter feed, was a photo of her in the coffee shop. Her face wasn't visible, but Detective Malone's was. He looked earnest.

And his hand was stretched out, covering hers.


	7. Fight for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver's POV. Takes place just after Chapter 6.

_Watch out for your mentions,_ Felicity texted. _I need to talk to you._

Oliver was deep in conversation with Adrian Chase when he got the text, so he didn't even have time to type a question mark in response.

Adrian was irate. Adrian had probably been _born_ irate, Oliver thought, as he listened to yet another rant about the inadequacies of the police department. The problem, yet again, was the series of unsolved bombings. Adrian wanted someone to be arrested and charged and prosecuted, and soon. 

"I don't need to tell you how tough elections are," Chase said.

Oliver shrugged. "I ran unopposed."

"Well," Chase said, "next time, that might not be true. And neither one of us is going to last long unless we put a stop to this crime wave."

"I'm doing everything I can," Oliver tried to assure him.

"Anything – another terrorist attack, another random bombing – anything can bring us down," Chase warned him. "Be careful."

It went on like that for half an hour.

So Oliver didn't have a chance to respond to Felicity until almost five o'clock. And he knew that at five, Felicity and Curtis had an elaborate end-of-day ritual that involved something about back-ups and logs and a long babble of words that he never fully understood, but enjoyed hearing.

She didn't text back, of course, so Oliver checked his Twitter mentions.

There were over a thousand of them.

_NOOOOOOOOOO_

_argh my eyes my eyes ack no_

_that's NOT #MayorMcHottie !!!!_

_stop it stop it stop it_

_THAT's not what the Entrepreneur of the Year should do_

_what a bitch_

_how could she!!!!_

_he's NOT hot enough for her_

_look at those tiny hands..._

_@oqueen85 you need to do something_

_FIGHT FOR HER!!!_ (That one originated from one of Curtis's pseudonyms. It had been quoted 573 times.)

And then, after pages of mentions:

_DID YOU SEE THIS_

And that one included a photo.

 _Huh_ , Oliver thought. _That looks like Jitters_.

_*_

The team was all in the bunker, starting to suit up, when Oliver arrived. 

"The police are moving on the Norwegian mafia's prescription drug ring," Felicity explained. "Which would be fine, except that they're involved in a money-laundering scheme that I've been tracking, and if the police arrest the drug dealers, we'll miss a chance to bring down the leaders." Felicity frowned. "What does the Norwegian mafia call their leaders, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter," John said. "Oliver, Dinah's with the cops. She's got a comm link already, and she'll try to help us stay out of their way. But we need to move out fast."

Oliver picked up his bow and headed for the changing area.

*

 _So what are you going to do about Overwatch's new boyfriend?_ Curtis asked over the comms.

 _Yeah,_ Rene said. _You gonna reverse your vasectomy? Kids are pretty awesome, you know..._

 _The police are in position,_ Dinah whispered.

 _Quiet comms,_ Oliver ordered.

And then they were shooting arrows and bullets, staying out of the way of the police, keeping to the perimeter, taking down the dealers who tried to escape or blow up pieces of tech. As long as the police managed to pick up the evidence connecting the drug dealers to their computer network, Felicity would be able to secretly hand over all the records she had been gathering for the last few months.

And Adrian Chase would finally have something else to do beside hassle Oliver about the explosions.

Though that wasn't a good reason to bring down a crime ring, Oliver reminded himself, as he shot a cell phone out of the hand of one of the leaders.

A nondescript plainclothes officer glanced up at the shadows, gave Oliver a nod of thanks, and put cuffs on the leader.

 _"Thanks, Malone,"_ Dinah said. They could hear her clearly, even when she wasn't talking to them. Just as planned. _"I'll take this one from here."_  

 _"Thank HIM,"_ the plainclothes officer said.

 _"If I ever meet HIM, I'll be sure to pass that along,"_ Dinah replied.

And then it was done, and they were heading back.

 _Seriously,_ Curtis said. _That guy is pathetic. Overwatch, you know you can do better._

 _It's Felicity's choice,_ Dinah broke in. _She can date whoever she wants. On OR off the team._

 _THANK you,_ Felicity finally said. _Green Arrow, I've got the files, and I've got the messages from the dealers to their bosses. We've got our evidence, and the police have theirs. You can come home._  

 _See you soon, Overwatch,_ Oliver replied.

* 

John cornered Oliver before they left the parking garage where the police raid had taken place. "So... how you feeling about this?"

Oliver shrugged. "The police got what they wanted. They didn't destroy our information. The team did well."

"Not about that," John said. "About Felicity." 

Oliver frowned. 

"You know..." John said. "About Felicity and that cop." He pointed to where Malone had disappeared.

"Ohhh..." Oliver said, suddenly understanding. "That was him?"

John nodded. "You didn't see the photos online?"

"I saw one of them," Oliver said neutrally.

"And...?" John gave Oliver a knowing look.

"And... Felicity is a grown woman." Oliver shrugged again. "Dinah's right. Felicity can make her own choices."

 _THANK you_ , Felicity said. _Nobody else heard that, B-T-W. I've finally learned to switch channels to a private one. Which could be really fun. Though maybe a little dangerous. Forget I even mentioned it._

Oliver forced his smirk back into a neutral expression.

"And you believe that?" John said. "Because I don't."

Oliver sighed. "John. I'm not the same man who broke everything in the lair when Felicity dated Palmer."

Felicity coughed over the comm.

"Really?" John said. "Because I see how you still look at her. And how she looks at you. And I don't believe for one second that it's really over."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me to fight for her, too?" He shook his head. "What do you want me to do, John? Challenge that cop to some kind of duel?"

Felicity snickered. _I'm picturing you dressed as Alexander Hamilton now,_ she said. _It's kind of hot._

Oliver wondered when Felicity had developed a fetish for ten-dollar bills, and then promised himself that he would ask her later. If only because he was insanely proud of himself for knowing who Alexander Hamilton was, and Felicity always got a little turned on when he showed off about knowing things.

"I guess it would be strange for the mayor to kill a police officer," John conceded. "But you could at least send her flowers."

 _I'm allergic to flowers,_ Felicity said.

"Wine and chocolate," Oliver corrected.

 _YES._ Felicity said. _And orgasms. So many orgasms._  

The leather pants were suddenly uncomfortably tight.

"See," John said, "You know her. Better than anyone."

"So you're telling me to fight for her," Oliver said.

John shrugged. "I've been divorced. I have plenty of things that I regret. Getting back together with Lyla... that isn't one of them. But waiting to marry her again... that is."

*

Finally, everyone was gone.

"So," Felicity said. "About your mentions..."

Oliver shrugged. It was hard to do while he was pulling off her shirt, but he was the Green Arrow. He could manage several actions at the same time.

"You're ok? With all of it?" Felicity looked carefully at him.

"I wish you had told me that you needed better cover..." Oliver said.

"It wasn't even that," Felicity said. "He – his name is Billy Malone, he's a detective – he had information about the bombing. Or my car. It wasn't clear."

Oliver gave his head a confused shake.

Felicity sighed. "I met Detective Malone after the explosion. He was the one who examined my car. And then he talked to me when I picked it up... and then he decided that he wanted to share evidence with me." She frowned slightly. "Without telling his boss. Which maybe should have been a red flag."

"Maybe not," Oliver said. "The police chief hasn't handled the investigation very well. Even Adrian Chase is complaining about him."

"Well. Anyway." Felicity pulled her other arm out of her shirt. "The evidence wasn't even useful. But the Internet is pissed off."

Oliver pulled off his own shirt. "The Internet is always pissed off."

Felicity laughed and ran a hand along his pec.

Oliver shivered.

"If only they could see this..." Felicity said.

"Thank goodness that they can't," Oliver said, picking her up and carrying her to their spot on the mats. 

*

"You're thinking," Oliver said, smoothing the line between Felicity's brows.

"I'm always thinking," Felicity said.

Oliver smiled.

"What do you think is going to happen at the awards thing?" Felicity said. "When they make me Entrepreneur of the Year?"

Oliver shrugged. "The head of the Chamber of Commerce will give you a plaque..."

Felicity hit him with a shirt. "Think like the Green Arrow," she said. "What will the bad guys do? Because that whole thing will be catnip for our _'fans'_. Me in a dress. You in a tux."

Oliver grinned at her. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Think like the Green Arrow, Oliver," Felicity insisted. "Will they bomb it, like the other things?"

Oliver took a breath and tried to get his mind out if its post-orgasmic haze. It was difficult. Felicity was still naked. But she was also right. 

"The other bombings haven't been in very public places," Oliver mused.

"Exactly," Felicity said. "So a bombing might not work in the same way. But what about snipers? Or, I don't know, poison gas?"

"The police won't be equipped to handle security for it," Oliver agreed. "We should figure out some way to get John and the others there, too." 

"Without telling them," Felicity added.

Oliver nodded his agreement. "I can try to get Dinah on the police detail," he said.

"I can invite John and Rene as my guests," Felicity said. "John's practically family, anyway."

"And Rene will think it's normal to go, if everyone else is there," Oliver agreed. "That will help."

Felicity sighed. "This isn't like the traps that WE set. There will be a lot of people there. Every other time, we've found some way to at least minimize the casualties." 

"Fire alarm?" Oliver suggested. "Sprinkler malfunction?" 

"I just wish we had a better sense of what we're dealing with," Felicity grumbled. "It's hard to plan with so little _information_."

"You should keep talking to the detective," Oliver said. "Find out what the police know. And I'll keep working the leads from City Hall."

"Detective Malone would probably meet with me again," Felicity considered. "Though the Internet will hate it."

"Maybe our ' _friends'_ will get angry enough to make a mistake," Oliver said.

"Maybe," Felicity said. "Though they haven't, so far. And they've been pretty angry already."

* 

Oliver had meetings the next morning. When you're the mayor, there are always meetings.

"Dinah." Oliver called her over as the team from the police department got up to leave the briefing. "Could I talk to you for a moment?"

The police chief raised his eyebrow to Adrian Chase.

"Doesn't take you long," Chase said, giving Dinah a slow look, then smirking at Oliver. "You know where to find me if you need me, Mr. Mayor."

Oliver nodded.

"Does he give you the creeps?" Dinah said when the room had cleared. "The DA, I mean. There's something off about that guy."

"I apparently picked up his girlfriend when I was in college," Oliver admitted. "I don't remember anything about it, but he does. So he's always making comments to me about women."

Dinah made a face. "I hate guys like that." She gave Oliver a careful look. "But that's not what you wanted to talk to me about."

"No," Oliver admitted. "Look. Could you make sure you're part of the security for the Entrepreneur of the Year Award presentation? I know the police are handling it."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Dinah said. "The police chief has already been making comments about me in an evening dress." She smirked to herself. "Of course, I'll wear a pantsuit. This isn't an undercover job, so I don't have to fit in with the crowd. And I can't kick well in a dress."

Oliver nodded. "Thank you."

Dinah paused for a second, then asked the question that was obviously on her mind. "You should know that Billy Malone has already volunteered." She tilted her head. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

"I can't imagine how it could be," Oliver said. "As long as he's a good cop."

*

Neither Chase nor the police had provided any new leads about the explosions. The case seemed like a dead end.

 _Bad choice of words,_ Oliver's internal voice – the one that sounded like Felicity - said.

And that was enough to push Oliver to dig into his other resources. He flipped through his little notebook where he kept all his notes and lists and random pieces of paper with phone numbers. 

He pulled one out.

"Susan Williams," the voice answered. 

"Ms. Williams, this is Mayor Queen," Oliver said. "We talked at a press conference a couple days ago." 

"Mr. Mayor!" Susan sounded pleased. "What a surprise." 

"The police still haven't found any solid leads about the bombing," he said. "Would you be willing to share what you know?" 

Susan was silent for a moment, as if considering. 

"I would be willing to do an exclusive interview with you, if that would help," Oliver offered.

"How about tomorrow morning?" Susan asked. "Your office."

"Tomorrow would be fine," Oliver said.

"Then it's a date," Susan replied. 

She ended the call before Oliver could respond.


	8. Princess, Goddess, Hacker, Boss

Felicity and Curtis already had a short list of interview candidates. All local; all with impressive cover letters. The resumes didn't always back up the claims, but that was the point of a technical interview. It didn't take long to contact half a dozen of them, and set up interviews for later in the day.

Then Felicity sent the police a file with the incriminating data about the money laundering connected to the Norwegian mafia, and sent a text to Detective Malone asking to meet for coffee again. And then she checked her mentions.

They had exploded overnight.

_what is Felicity doing_

_that guy is really gross_

_ick did you see those tiny hands_

_hey bitch do you think this is going to help your company???_

_you had a disney prince and now you've got a frog_

"Disney prince?" Felicity said to her phone. "Seriously?"

"Didn't you compare Ray Palmer to a Disney prince once?" Curtis asked from where he was supposedly working on a solution to the alloy problem.

"Yes," Felicity said. "And then the next year, I discovered that the entire Palmer Tech board thought that all women executives slept their way to the top, and I couldn't even argue with them." She shook her head. "No more princes for me."

"Oh, but you've got to watch the movies again..." Curtis insisted. 

"I already did," Felicity admitted. "Do you realize that Ariel actually gave up her voice... just to try to get a guy? And then he dumped her. And Cinderella's prince had a foot-binding fetish, and there was that whole thing about kissing girls when they're asleep and can't say no... those movies are super problematic."

"But don't they make you want to sing? _Some... day... my prince... will come...._ " Curtis sang.

"No," Felicity said. "I don't want to be a princess any more. Even a Tech Princess."

"You could have been a Queen," Curtis said. "But no." 

"I want to be _Felicity Smoak, Entrepreneur of the Year_ ," she said. "And I want to find a good coder to help us."

"And we will," Curtis said. "I've got to run down to the factory again. You good here?" 

"I'll find something to do," Felicity said, looking at the long list on her screen.

Curtis left. Oliver didn't respond when she texted him, so Felicity looked at her mentions one more time.

Oh, frak. They found Malone's Twitter handle.

And there was a hashtag. 

_#DieDetectiveTinyHandsDIE_

She texted him again. _Saw Twitter. Sorry._

 _Now I know what it's like to be you,_ he responded.

Oh, you have NO idea, Felicity thought.

 _Can I make it up to you?_ she texted back. _Coffee on me this time?_

 _I'm off duty at 10 again,_ Malone texted back. _Same place?_  

 _Sounds great,_ Felicity typed.

And then she went down into the bunker and set up links to every traffic camera around Jitters. If her stalkers took more photos, maybe she would be able to cross-reference the source with the long list of people who had been near the exploding venture capital office.

As an afterthought, she set up another search on all the users who mentioned Malone on Twitter, and cross-referenced it with the list of people she had blocked. Maybe she could even do a textual analysis of their Twitter feeds and find... people who had violent tendencies, or who had experience with explosives, or who hated birth control. It was a needle in a haystack, but that's what Big Data was for. Right?

*

"Hi!" Felicity said brightly.

Malone smiled back. "Thanks for inviting me for coffee," he said.

"Could I see your phone?" Felicity asked.

"Ummm..." Malone hesitated. "Ok?"

"Nothing weird. Well, not too weird. I just want to put something on it." She stopped. "Sorry. I should explain. I wrote a couple apps to stop doxxings – threats on the Internet, people sharing personal information and harassing you – and I think this one might help." She paused for breath. "Is that ok?" 

"Maybe you should tell me what it does first," Malone suggested. "I carry this at work."

"Right! And this will help with that problem." Felicity thought for a moment. "You know how your phone is basically a combined GPS and a networked computer, right?"

"Sure," Malone said. "And I've turned off location services."

"And that's great," Felicity said. "But there are remote ways to take control of your phone – for bad guys to take control of your phone, I mean. This app – " she pointed to an icon on her screen. "This app will keep them from doing it. Actually, it's even better – it will make the hackers think that they've got your location, but it will lie about it."

Malone nodded slowly. "That could come in handy."

"You have no idea," Felicity said. "So...?"

"I can't buy it in the app store?" Malone joked.

"There are a lot of regulators who wouldn't like this," Felicity admitted. _But ARGUS – or at least Lyla Michaels - has a backdoor._ She didn't say that out loud. "So...?"

"Sure," Malone said. "How do I get it?"

"Let me see your phone for a moment." She opened the utilities, then connected to her phone's temporary hotspot. "There." She shut down the connection to her phone, and made sure her hotspot was shut off. "It won't solve all the problems. But it might help."

"Thanks," Malone said, and smiled at her again as he took a sip of his coffee.

"It's nothing," Felicity said. "Not given the trouble that you're in because of me."

Malone shook his head. "I'm even more convinced that I did the right thing by giving you those pictures. My boss made the wrong call. If people are that angry... maybe the explosion really was connected to your stalkers." He glanced around, then leaned in. "Did you have any luck with the pictures?" 

"Unfortunately not," Felicity said. "The street was just swept. There aren't any prints." She glanced up at him. "Too bad there wasn't any other evidence." 

Malone frowned, as if trying to come to a decision. "What do you need to know?" he asked finally. "We've got forensics on the explosives, witness reports..."

"I'd love to see reports from the witnesses," Felicity admitted. "But... isn't that 'interfering with a police investigation?'" She made scare quotes with her fingers. 

Malone sighed. "My boss has blinders," he said. "We're stuck, and he shut down some of the most promising investigations. We're not going to get these guys." He glanced at the icon on his phone. "But you... you just might."

"Thank you," Felicity said. This had been a lot easier than she expected. 

"Just promise me one thing," Malone said. "Don't go after these people on your own. Let the police take care of it."

Felicity crossed her fingers beneath the table. "I promise."

*

"Ok," Felicity said, running her hands through her hair. Wow, that was totally Oliver's mannerism. She glanced at Curtis, but he was still shaking his head at disbelief over the incompetence of the previous interviewee. "So Jeremy Dunning does not, in fact, know any computer languages." 

"Despite claiming fluency in _fifteen_." Curtis just kept shaking his head. "Maybe we should have been tipped off when he called it _fluency_."

"And Jason Kruger's idea of a past project is his Overwatch ranking," Felicity said.

"I was worried for a minute that he knew about us," Curtis admitted.

"But it's just a computer game," Felicity said. "We need someone who can CODE. Not someone who leaves nasty comments on YouTube videos by women game developers."

"So Dunning and Kruger are out," Curtis said. "We've got one interview left today. I hope she's good."

"She's another one whose resume didn't really support the claims in her cover letter," Felicity said. "I was willing to give them all a chance, but after Dunning and Kruger..."

Curtis stood up and rolled his shoulders. Felicity got out of her chair, too, and considered doing a little yoga, like maybe one of the Warrior poses, to scare off the truly incompetent applicants.

She turned and pointed her arm in front of her... and nearly knocked the glasses off of a young, dark-haired woman.

"Oh! Sorry!" Felicity reached out to help the woman get her balance. "Are you Alena?"

"I am!" the woman – Alena – replied. "I'm early, aren't I? Is that ok? I can come back if you need me to. I was just really excited about this job – I've always dreamed of doing something like this, and I really need a job..."

"You're fine," Felicity assured her. "We can start early... can't we, Curtis?"

"Sure," he said, coming over and extending his hand. "I'm Curtis Holt."

"And I'm Felicity Smoak," Felicity said. "You can hang your jacket over here. If you want. Or you can keep it on."

"Whatever makes you comfortable," Curtis added. 

"Oh." Alena looked confused. "Ok." She kept the jacket on.

"So," Felicity started. "Tell me about your experience coding. Like what languages do you program in, what projects have you worked on... that sort of thing." Interviewing was hard, even after a half dozen candidates. Maybe she and Curtis should have rehearsed this.

"Not that many, honestly," Alena admitted. "The usual ones. Like, everyone knows Python and Ruby, right?"

"Sure," Curtis said. At least he didn't mention Dunning's blank stare at the question. The brief online ethics training had paid off, after all. 

"But I only know a little Fortran," Alena said with a shrug.

"Fortran?" Felicity said. "That's ok – my dad barely knew that one. He told me it was obsolete before I was born." 

"Oh, sure," Alena said. "But sometimes you run into weird legacy code. And if you're working with utilities? Who knows what they use. You know a lot of the nuclear plants were built in the 70s, right? Like before ARPANET started using TCP/IP?"

"I know," Felicity said. "Disco and uranium. Such a weird combination." 

"Exactly!" Alena said. "I've tried to teach myself machine language, so I can get around some of those weird proprietary languages, but it's hard to think like a guy with sideburns."

"Yes!" Felicity agreed, then looked at Curtis. "I mean..."

Curtis looked awkward. "You know, I think I need to go check out some of the alloy work at the factory," he said. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Have fun bonding over your... inability to grow sideburns, or whatever you're doing."

Felicity and Alena watched him leave.

"Do you think he's bothered by too much estrogen?" Alena asked. "I mean... I thought, with you running the company, and being Entrepreneur of the Year, and everything..."

"Oh! No, Curtis is fine," Felicity said, frowning after him. "He's gay. Like stereotypical, watching-rom-coms and shipping-soap-opera-stars gay. He's the best colleague I could have."

"Oh! That's good," Alena said. 

Felicity tried to gather her thoughts. "So what projects have you worked on in the past?" she asked. "Like school projects or research projects are fine. I just want to know what you can do."

Alena looked carefully at her. "Can you get access to the dark web from here?" she asked.

Felicity looked surprised. "I mean, sure, not that I normally use corporate machines to get on the dark web..." 

"I'm sure you can manage it," Alena said. "Ghost Fox Goddess."

Felicity spun – she had mastered doing that in her heels, even without sitting in her chair – and gave her a long look. "Who am I talking to?" she asked.

"Kojo Sledgehammer," Alena said. "After your time. But you're a legend."

Felicity nodded. "Yes. I can get on." She sat in her chair and typed a few commands. "Want to drive?"

Alena most definitely wanted to drive. And oh, the places she went. 

"You've adapted the Stuxnet worm?" Felicity asked. 

"I mean, I've never deployed it," Alena confessed. "But yes. I could take down every coal-fired power plant in the country, if I wanted to. In addition to destroying uranium enrichment."

"Wow," Felicity said. "I mean, I think the best route to a green energy future is through modernization and optimization of the electrical grid to allow it to take advantage of the asynchronous generation potential of wind and solar power..."

"Wow," Alena said. "I had no idea that a corporate life involved memorizing your mission statement."

"I've got to give a speech at an awards ceremony," Felicity said, a little sheepishly. "Too much?"

"Maybe too corporate-sounding," Alena said.

"I'll keep working on it," Felicity said.

"But, I mean, it's a nice idea, in an ideal world..." Alena said. 

Felicity looked at Alena's code again. It was truly elegant.

"When can you start?" Felicity asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deal with boys on the Internet? You should know about the Dunning-Kruger effect, too. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunning-Kruger_effect


	9. Unproductive

Oliver rested his head on his hand and looked at Felicity. "You look happy," he said.

"I just had four amazing orgasms," Felicity said. She turned her head to look at him, but otherwise, stayed lying on her back. "Of course I'm happy."

"Four?" Oliver was pleased, though a little surprised.

"Well, the last two blended into one another," Felicity said. She didn't move from where she lay, smiling and breathing a little hard. 

"Good," Oliver said. "That's good."

They stared at each other for a while.

"But it usually only takes a few minutes for you to start thinking," Oliver said, smoothing his finger along the place where her forehead usually crinkled.

"I'm happier about other things, too," Felicity admitted. "I really like the woman that Curtis and I hired. We might actually make some headway... and I might actually end up deserving that award."

Oliver gazed at her. "You deserve all of the awards."

"You always say that after sex. " But Felicity didn't even hit him with anything. 

Oliver chuckled.

"And we might finally get a break in our stalker case," Felicity added. "I'm getting reports from all the witnesses to the most recent bombing." 

"Really?" Oliver asked. "How did you manage that?"

"Detective Malone decided that my suspicions had merit," she said.

"Going against orders?" Oliver mused. "That could be bad if the chief finds out."

"We'll have to keep him from finding out, then," Felicity said.

"Maybe my contact can help," Oliver said. "There's a reporter who's also suspicious about the bombings. She's got leads, I think, but doesn't have a full story. Maybe she's got some of the same information as the police."

"If we've got another source, that would be great," Felicity agreed. "Who is it? Bethany Snow?"

"No," Oliver said. "Susan Williams." 

"Huh," Felicity said. "She's got a reputation for being a bit of a shark. What did you have to trade her for the information?"

"An interview," Oliver said.

"About what?" Felicity asked. "You've got a plan, right?"

"Well, I was just going to wing it," Oliver admitted. "That usually works fine."

"You should probably prepare something," Felicity said. "You don't want to be cornered into saying something that you don't really mean – or something that you mean, but you don't want the world to hear."

"Good point," Oliver said. He sat up, reached over her, and picked up his shirt.

* 

Felicity texted him early the next morning. There were a lot of new pictures online, of her talking to Malone. She had been trying to figure out who took them, but no luck.

 _Who knew 100s of people stare in the windows of Jitters?_ she asked. _Needle, meet haystack._  

Which meant that it was Oliver's turn to try to dig up some new evidence.

There wasn't much time. The award ceremony for Entrepreneur of the Year was only a day away.

Oliver's desk was already clean when his assistant knocked on the door. "There's a Susan Williams to see you," he said. "She said you scheduled an interview with her?" 

"I did," Oliver confirmed. "Please send her in." 

Susan closed the door behind her.

Oliver stood, smoothing his tie, and reached out to shake her hand. "Thanks for coming," he said. "Have a seat."

"Thank you for the interview," she replied, straightening her skirt as she settled into a chair. 

"It's my pleasure," Oliver said. 

Susan raised her eyebrows briefly, but didn't comment. Instead, she looked around the office. "You've changed things around since the last mayor. Though I guess that's not surprising. The last mayor wasn't in office long."

Oliver nodded. "It's been an unlucky job," he said.

"For you, as well?" Susan asked. "What's the most frustrating thing about the job?"

Oliver plastered on a smile. "Probably the coffee shortage during city council meetings," he said. 

"Not the difficulty with job creation?" Susan asked.

"We've had some struggles coming out of the recession," Oliver conceded. "But I think some of the new businesses that have been started recently have a great deal of potential. Star City is poised to become the new hub of green technology, and I expect that the growth will spread to all sectors of our economy."

Susan put down her notebook and clicked off her recorder. "Mr. Queen," she said. "I've been assigned plenty of puff pieces about businesses in this city." 

"It's not a puff piece," Oliver protested. "It's the truth." 

"You sound like a promotional flyer for Smoak Technologies," Susan said.

"Well, it's a great company," Oliver argued. "That's why it's earned Entrepreneur of the Year."

"And I'll be writing up a piece about that after the ceremony tomorrow night," Susan said. "But I was hoping for something more interesting from you."

Oliver shrugged. "I think that the health and prosperity of this city are the most interesting stories that you could tell."

Susan shook her head and started to stand. "That's why you're in politics, Mr. Queen," she said. "But I'm in journalism. And I need a story."

Oliver frowned. "You're not interested in discussing the city's response to the bomb threats?"

Susan sat back down. "Are you going to say anything other than 'we are doing our best,' or 'Star City is open for business'?" she asked. "Because I've heard both of those things before."

"I don't know," Oliver said. "You implied that you had leads showing that the recent bombing was not an isolated incident. If that's true, the city might be able to do something." 

Susan laughed. "The police have the evidence that they're linked," she said. "Rumor has it that this bombing left the same kind of chemical residue as the bombing at the medical offices this summer." She waited for a reaction from him.

Oliver waited for more, and then remembered that he should look surprised. "Really. And they're not following those leads?" 

"They don't think there's a possible motive to connect the bombings," she said. "And the residue is made up of common chemicals, so there are other possible interpretations." She looked carefully at him. "So what can your office do about this, Mr. Mayor?"

Oliver shook his head. "I can talk to the police chief," he said.

Susan watched him carefully. "That's all?"

"I don't want to undermine the police department," Oliver said mildly.

"No," Susan said. "Of course not." She stood to go. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Queen."

"My pleasure," Oliver said.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," Susan said, and walked out of the door. 

* 

The daily briefing on the bombing investigation was unproductive.

Oliver spent it watching each report from the police, wondering who might be covering up the similarity to the previous bombings. But every report was vague and inconclusive, and Oliver couldn't even find a good opening to ask probing questions. If someone in the department was working with the bomber, he didn't want to give away his suspicions.

"Maybe your people are just incompetent," Adrian Chase said to the police chief. 

And maybe Oliver didn't want to come across like Adrian, he thought, and tried to settle everything down before the angry looks turned into something worse.

When the meeting was over, Adrian stayed behind for a moment. "Looking forward to the big event tomorrow?" he asked.

"I love a good party," Oliver said, channeling his younger self. 

"Me too," Adrian said. "Reminds me of high school. Better dressed, maybe." He chuckled. "You probably wore a real tux to the prom."

Oliver shrugged.

"I remember your date." Adrian smiled. "Beautiful girl. I wonder what happened to her."

Oliver didn't know. All he knew was that Laurel had turned him down when he asked her to go with him. He couldn't remember why. 

"I guess you won't be the date of the guest of honor tomorrow, now that Ms. Smoak is seeing that cop," Adrian continued.

"I wouldn't have been her date anyway," Oliver said. "We broke up a long time ago." 

Adrian nodded. "That's right. Too bad. Beautiful girl."

Oliver cringed internally. _Felicity would hate that comment,_ he thought.

"Who are you bringing for a date, then?" Adrian asked. "Not to be weird or anything. Just wondering if she has a friend. Or a sister."

Oliver was silent. Maybe Dinah was right about Adrian being creepy. 

"My wife passed away a few years ago," Adrian continued. "Ever since then I've hated going to these things alone."

 _Oh._ "I'm so sorry," Oliver said. "I didn't know about your wife."

Adrian just nodded.

"But my date doesn't have a sister," Oliver said. "Just a brother."

"Oh?" Adrian looked curious.

"I'm taking my sister, Thea," Oliver said. "Long-standing tradition amongst single politicians, you know."

"Your sister," Adrian nodded. "That's nice. That's really nice." He turned to the door. "I'll see you there, then. If I don't see you tomorrow."

And Oliver dug out his phone to call Thea. If she was going to be his date, she should probably be warned.

 


	10. Preparing

Felicity didn't have a chance to look at the witness reports until late in the day.

First, she had to get them from Malone. No, from 'Billy.' She really needed to think of him as 'Billy,' or else she would forget what to call him when they were talking. At any rate, she had met Billy in Jitters again, to get the flash drive with photos of all the witness reports. And yes, social media freaked out. Again. Malone – Billy – had been getting increasingly detailed death threats, too. Really gruesome ones. Like involving the slow removal of body parts. It was gross.

And then when she got back from Jitters, Alena had been there. And it was nice to code and chat with someone who wasn't Curtis - it really was. But at least with Curtis, she could sneak away to the bunker without him getting suspicious. Alena didn't know about the bunker – SHOULDN'T EVER know about the bunker – and so Felicity coded, and waited.

But finally, Curtis took Alena on a tour of the factory, and Felicity was able to go through every story that every witness had told.

There was nothing there. Absolute zero – metaphor totally intended, because that trail was COLD. There was nothing but people going to work, leaving the office for lunch, then KA-BOOM! Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the explosion.

So. Social media gave too many suspects. The scene of the crime didn't give ANY. The real answer was presumably somewhere between infinity and zero, but Felicity just didn't have a good way to narrow it down.

* 

Felicity sat in front of her computer with the blanket around her naked shoulders.

"What do you have?" Oliver asked, as he pulled on his sweatpants. "Anything new?"

"Yes," Felicity said. "If by _new_ , you mean insults that I couldn't have imagined a few months ago." She shook her head. "I thought it was bad when I was just a heartless, anti-baby workaholic bitch. Now I'm an evil, sleezy, workaholic bitch. Maybe not anti-baby, though, because there's a group that's convinced that I'm pregnant with Detective Malone's child." Felicity shook her head. "They apparently think that the stork delivers both babies and mochas or something."

"My leads weren't anything new, either," Oliver said. "No names. Just the same things we already knew about the bomb residue."

Felicity sighed. "I don't think we have enough time – or clues – to figure out the _who_ of it all," she said. "That leaves us with the _how_."

"Do you have a..." Oliver walked up behind her and looked at the floor plans for the hotel where the award ceremony would be. "Of course you do."

"All the festivities are going to be in the big ballroom," Felicity said. "There are three big doors to the lobby from there, plus fire exits on the side."

"And the catering entrance," Oliver added.

"That's right," Felicity said. "We can't forget about that." 

"The police will be watching the main entrances," Oliver said. "But we'll need to keep an eye on the other doors."

"Especially since we still don't know exactly how the bombs work," Felicity said. "None of them had wires or timers or any of the usual bomb parts. And the explosions were all fairly small..."

"Except the first one," Oliver pointed out. "The urologist."

"Right. But that might be consistent with the others, if I'm right about how they worked." She pulled up a page with a bunch of chemical formulas. "The residue could be the product of any of these reactions. And three of them use reactants that almost anyone could buy."

Oliver frowned at the screen. "I don't see how this explains the difference between my urologist and the other bombings."

"I think our bomber was still figuring out how to control the size of the explosions," Felicity said.

Oliver shook his head, still confused. "This isn't like any bomb that Anatoly taught me about in Russia," he said. "I mean, yes, I did fail chemistry. But..."

"This bomb only makes sense if you know even more chemistry than usual," Felicity said. "Every explosion needs things that react exothermically – they have to give off heat, and fast. And usually they need a spark for ignition."

"That's what the wires are for," Oliver said. "Anatoly taught me that much."

"So without wires, you need to ignite the mixture some other way," Felicity said.

"Not with a match," Oliver said.

"No," Felicity agreed. "Or with a lighter. That would be silly. But there are some substances that react with oxygen. Violently."

Oliver frowned. "Wouldn't they just explode on their own?"

"They would be unstable, yes," Felicity said. "BUT – what if they were kept away from air until they were needed?" She spun once in her chair to punctuate the point.

Oliver frowned. "Wouldn't they still just make a big fire and burn the person who tried to set the bomb?" He shrugged at her look. "Tommy burned his eyebrows off during chemistry class once when he started mixing random stuff together. We both got suspended for that."

"That's a good point," Felicity said. "Which means that our bomber would need some way to keep the reaction slow enough for them to get away."

"So they would have to control how fast the air mixes in?" Oliver asked.

"Somehow. Or through some kind of kinetics that starts slowly, but speeds up enough to ignite the rest of the stuff afterwards." 

Oliver looked at the formulas again. "So is there any way to mix these without being obvious about it?" 

"Well, these reactants are liquids," Felicity said. "That's one of the reasons why I have to bring teeny shampoo containers when I fly."

"So the bomber would just need a way to mix liquids without being obvious about it," Oliver mused. "And a way to keep the igniting compound sealed from air."

He and Felicity looked at the ballroom layout on the screen together. "There's the bar..." Felicity suggested. "Lots of bottles of liquids in a bar."

Oliver nodded. 

"I'm not sure how they would control mixing something with air, though," Felicity thought. "Unless... they mixed something with fizzy water? That might agitate a drink enough to mix air in." She looked at Oliver. "Do you think it would be too big of a scandal if the Mayor spent an awards ceremony hanging out at the bar?"

"Yes," Oliver said. "But I can still watch it from a distance." 

Felicity nodded. "We should wear comms, too," she said. "Closed, for just the two of us. And have a code word. Or at least something less obvious than BOMB!" 

Oliver nodded. "It would have to be something that we wouldn't say accidentally, but wouldn't be too strange."

"If I see anything suspicious, I'll refer to you by your name – as 'Oliver Queen' – rather than as 'the mayor,'" Felicity suggested. "There are a lot of places in my speech where that could fit."

"Subtle, but clear," Oliver said. "I'll notice that."

"You notice everything," Felicity said. "It's one of the really hot things about you, as the Arrow and as yourself."

Oliver just smiled. 

"And you... you could say 'you look beautiful,'" Felicity said. "Or just 'beautiful.' You know better than to say that to me for real." She scowled. "After that board member at Palmer Tech kept telling me how I needed to just smile more, that I was beautiful when I smiled, and then talked over me in every meeting..."

Oliver did his best impression of her _grrr_ face. It was cute. "No wonder you blocked the thousands of people who told me to tell you that," Oliver said. "I'll have to think about it... but I could probably make that work."

*

Felicity didn't concentrate well at work the next day. By noon, she was ready to send everyone – well, Curtis and Alena - away so she could get ready for the big event. Both by getting dressed _and_ by hijacking the security cameras around the awards.

Curtis was easy. Paul had the day off, after all, and Curtis thought it might be nice to practice some bow-tie-removal.

"You can go and get ready, too," Felicity said to Alena.

"Wait," Alena said. "I'm invited?"

"Of course," Felicity said. "I mean, I know you've only been working here for two days. I should have told you. But it's not a big company. Everyone who works for us is invited." 

Alena looked worried. "Is there a dress code?" she asked. "Because pretty much all of my clothes are like this." She waved a hand at her torn jeans.

"Oh," Felicity said. Of course. She remembered those days. It just had been a while since she had been too broke to shop for whatever pretty things she wanted. Maybe it was unfair to invite Alena.

Alena's eyes were big and sad behind her glasses.

Or maybe... "Look, I know this is weird coming from a boss. Or at least, it was when my boss was a man. So it's totally ok to say no to this. But..." She looked awkwardly at Alena. "I could lend you some money to shop for a dress."

Alena frowned. "I wouldn't even know where to start. Like, how is a dress for this different from interview clothes or a bridesmaid's dress?" She looked hopefully at Felicity. "Could I come with you? You're getting a new dress, aren't you?"

"I've already picked it out," Felicity said. "But yes, I was going to get it this afternoon. You could come with me."

Alena brightened. "Oh, I would like that. I would really like that."

"Could we meet in an hour?" Felicity asked. "I need to pick up some groceries, and I won't have time later tonight." 

"And I need to get some lunch," Alena said. "See you soon!" She practically skipped out of the office.

 _And I also need to set the cameras and pick up my comm,_ Felicity thought.


	11. Entrepreneur of the Year

"I can't believe you waited until today to ask me to come to this with you," Thea said, looking around the ballroom. "What if I had a date?"

"I knew you didn't," Oliver said. "And I knew people would ask questions about why. Just like they were asking me."

"Fine," Thea said. "But weren't you hoping – just a little bit – that Felicity would ask you to be her date?"

"No," Oliver said.

"You really aren't jealous of those photos online, of Felicity and the detective?" Thea pressed. " _I_ was jealous for you."

"I'm fine, Thea," Oliver said. He turned, smiled, and shook hands with a city councilman.

The councilman complained for about ten minutes about the bicycle lobby. Oliver did his best to appear to be listening, but there were a lot of people to watch. Dinah was stationed near one door. John had just come in, with Lyla beside him. Rene was just behind them, alternately whispering to John and grabbing more hors d'oeuvres from the catering trays.

The waiters moved in and out through the catering door in the back of the ballroom. They circulated past the bar at least once in each of their rounds, picking up drinks and dropping off new orders. Oliver made sure to notice each face, in case someone new suddenly appeared. That was how the Triad had attempted to assassinate Malcolm, back in the day, after all. It's possible that the bomber would take a similar approach.

"We can't give up parking for more bicycle lanes!" the city councilman was saying, for what might have been the sixteenth time. "People with cars pay the taxes for the roads! Not bicyclists!"

Oliver nodded politely and kept looking around the room.

There was Felicity. At the ballroom door, in a new red dress that showed the muscles in her shoulders. Oliver suppressed a smile. Those nights playing with the salmon ladder were definitely paying off. 

Curtis and Paul were behind her, along with a whole crowd of people who were probably the Smoak Technology employees. Oliver looked at each person carefully. He had met some of them, but not all. It would be surprising if they were involved in the bombings – after all, they had jobs because of Felicity and her career choices – but it was worth committing their faces to his memory, too.

"She's really something, isn't she?" Adrian Chase had come up beside him while Oliver was watching the doors.

"She has done great things for this city," Oliver replied.

Felicity glanced up once. Good. Her comms were live.

Thea joined Oliver on his other side. "The receiving line will be really long," she said. "Though as the mayor, you can probably go to the front of it."

Oliver shook his head. "I can wait." He watched. "Besides, it looks like she's working her way through the crowd. She'll come to us."

Over the comms, he heard Felicity greeting each new person, repeating their names back to them, bright and friendly. She said she was awkward at these things, but she was wrong. She was at least as much of a natural leader as he was. More, probably, because she had the brains to back it all up.

Damn, he loved that woman.

"If we're going to wait for Felicity to get here, I need a drink," Thea said. "Want anything?"

"Are you asking for everyone?" Adrian gave Thea a slick smile. "Adrian Chase. District Attorney. You must be the mayor's lovely sister."

"Thea Queen," she said. "CEO of Royal Productions."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her. Last he knew, her company had been named after Verdant, and her only employee had been a part-time accountant. 

She shrugged back at him. "So. Drinks?"

"Scotch," Adrian said. "Neat."

Thea gave Oliver an amused look. "I think he stole your order, brother dear."

"I'll just have a seltzer water," Oliver said. "Or a club soda. Whatever they're using for mixers."

 _Smooth,_ Felicity whispered over the comms. Then: _Yes, things have been very smooth – going very smoothly – lately. Have you met our newest programmer?_

Thea nodded to Adrian and Oliver. "I will be back with your drinks... momentarily." She weaved her way through the crowd towards the bar. 

"Not drinking tonight?" Adrian asked. "That's not the Oliver Queen I remember from high school."

Oliver shook his head. "I've learned to avoid alcohol when I need to control what comes out of my mouth," he said. "Words... and other things."

Adrian chuckled. "Wise. Me, I find that little social lubrication is useful." He glanced around the room. "Oh – there's your ex-fiancée's new man."

Detective Malone was in a suit, but still looked like a cop. He was at one of the doors, talking to people as they entered. Felicity walked by as she moved through the room, and stopped for a moment to shake his hand.

 _Thank you for your help tonight_ , she said.

 _My pleasure_ , Malone replied. _Anything to support the work you're doing_.

 _That's really sweet_ , Felicity replied. _Thank you_.

A camera flashed. Oliver stiffened. But then he heard Felicity over the comm.

Y _es, the mayor has been very supportive of our work_.

'The mayor.' So things were still fine.

Camera flashes continued to follow Felicity as she worked her way around the room. Of course there were camera flashes, Oliver reminded himself. She was Entrepreneur of the Year. She would be on the late news – and on the front page of the few actual newspapers that were printed.

Thea was back. "Scotch," she said to Adrian. "And Oliver, they didn't have any seltzer. Or club soda. Or even a Coke. Apparently the carbonation is broken."

 _Really_ , Felicity said over the comms. _Oh, yes, councilman, I really think that the future of energy is in load-balancing the grid, rather than building more coal plants._  

Oliver took the glass of plain water. "That's fine," he told Thea. "Water is good before I need to speak, anyway."

"Oh! Are you going to introduce Felicity?" Thea asked.

"I'm the mayor," Oliver said mildly. "My job is to welcome everyone, and to introduce the Chamber of Commerce. Then _they_ handle the ceremony." 

"Maybe you can introduce Felicity to _me_ ," Adrian said from Oliver's other side.

Oliver looked up, and there she was.

"Mr. Mayor," Felicity said.

"Ms. Smoak," Oliver replied. "Congratulations on your award."

"Thank you," Felicity smiled. 

A camera flashed as they shook hands, and then Felicity moved on and introduced herself to Adrian.

"You could have kissed her on the cheek," Thea grumbled. "Or given her a hug. Or just stared longingly at her."

"She's a successful businesswoman," Oliver replied. "I'm treating her with the respect that she deserves."

 _Thank you_ , Felicity said over the comms. She had moved through the crowd and was now several yards away. 

"You're welcome," Oliver said to one of his constituents, who looked a bit flustered in response. Oliver wondered what she had been talking about. 

The crowd circulated. The waiters made their way around the room, to the front, to the bar, to the back, then to the bar again. Felicity continued working her way towards the Chamber of Commerce officers, who were standing near the podium.

 _Would you like anything to drink before the awards, Ms. Smoak?_ one of them asked.

 _Something fizzy would be great,_ Felicity replied. _No alcohol_.

 _Nerves?_ the Chamber vice-president asked.

 _Yes. Nerves,_ Felicity replied.

"Did you ever think we would be at something like this?" John asked from beside Oliver's elbow. "Our Felicity. Entrepreneur of the Year." 

"She's her own Felicity," Oliver replied. "That's why she's up there."

Lyla nodded at him approvingly, then gave him a careful look. "How are things?"

"So far, so good," Oliver replied.

Lyla nodded towards the fire exits. "We'll make sure everything stays that way."

Now that Oliver looked closely, the men who were standing the door, wearing matching dark suits, looked like ARGUS agents. Lyla had taken care of her part of security. Oliver nodded to her.

"You're welcome," Lyla replied.

 _They don't have anything fizzy_ , a Chamber of Commerce officer said to Felicity. _Sorry. I brought you some water._

 _That's fine_ , Felicity replied. _More than fine. Thank you._

"Shouldn't you be up there?" Rene asked from Oliver's other side. "Looks like everyone has drinks."

"And the hors d'oeuvres are running out, right?" John added.

"That, too," Rene agreed.

"Rene's actually right," Thea said. "Everyone's looking at you, Ollie. You need to get up there."

Oliver nodded and made his way towards the podium, shaking hands and smiling at strangers and near-strangers along the way. When he got to the front of the room, he nodded to the Chamber of Commerce, then to Felicity.

"Ready?" he asked.

"We're just waiting for you, Mr. Mayor," Felicity replied.

Oliver nodded again and stepped onto the small stage. "Good evening," he said into the mic.

The crowd murmured and rustled and eventually quieted.

"Welcome to the annual Star City Chamber of Commerce awards," Oliver said. "This is a wonderful place to call home. Tonight, we celebrate the great things that are happening in our city, and some of the people who make them happen. But before we start, let's give a round of applause to everyone who isn't getting awards tonight – to your favorite businesses and non-profits, to the hard-working people of the police and fire departments... to everyone who works to make this city a better place."

The room erupted in applause. The waiters continued circulating, picking up plates and empty glasses. 

"But as much as I enjoy giving speeches..."

The crowd chuckled.

"I am just here to introduce the real organizers of this event." And with that, he called up each of the officers of the Chamber of Commerce, introducing them by name and title. When he was done, he stepped down from the podium and moved to the side of the room.

The waiters had temporarily disappeared. Lyla had been talking quietly to her ARGUS agents, but then headed back into the center of the room with John. Dinah stood beside the middle lobby door, appearing relaxed but alert. Other plainclothes police, including Detective Malone, had moved to the front of the room, near the podium. Rene was across the room from Oliver, near a fire exit. Felicity and Curtis stood in a crowd of other awardees, waiting. They would receive the last one of the awards.

As the Chamber president began announcing the Good Neighbor of the Year, someone coughed from behind Oliver. He stepped to the side.

"You look like you need some air, Mr. Queen," Susan Williams said.

"It's just easier to be at the edge of a crowd," Oliver replied. "That way, I don't block anyone's view."

Susan nodded.

"Working on your story about the awards, Ms. Williams?" Oliver asked. "Any big scoops?"

"The mini egg rolls are delicious," Susan replied. "And the bar only has wine, beer, and hard liquor. No mixers tonight." 

"Will that go in your story?" Oliver asked.

"No," Susan said. "Or at least, not unless the ceremony is as short and boring as the press release sounded."

"Don't you need to listen to the speeches?" Oliver asked. The winner for Non-Profit of the Year was talking about the Children's Museum.

Susan shook her head. "We got copies of all of them before the awards started," she said. "Everyone wants to make sure that we know their talking points." 

"Well, hopefully the ceremony will be short and boring, and you will have to talk about the hors d'oeuvres," Oliver said.

The audience applauded, cameras flashed, and the president of the Chamber of Commerce returned to the podium for the next award. The cycle continued three more times, until finally, it was time for Felicity.

Oliver took another look around the room. John and Lyla were now in the back, checking in with Dinah. Rene was still posted by the same door, across the room from the ARGUS agents. Thea was near the bar, picking up a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray.

"And now for our final award. As you all know, this city has had some tough economic times over the past few years. But things are turning around. And our next awardee has played an important role in that improvement. Two years ago, the former CEO of Palmer Technologies stepped out on her own. She started by developing software – I would explain it to you if I understood it – "

The audience laughed. Felicity looked embarrassed.

"But she doesn't just 'code,' as she puts it. She has worked to develop a new, high-tech manufacturing center in what were once abandoned warehouses. And the latest venture of her company is a new set of... batteries?"

Curtis nodded at him.

"Batteries that will allow the electric grid to continue its shift towards green energy. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the mind behind the future of Star City... our Entrepreneur of the Year. Felicity Smoak!"

Felicity stepped to the mic. "Thank you," she said, as the applause died down.

"Champagne?" a waiter asked Oliver.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the glass.

Felicity looked out at the crowd. "Wow," she said. "I can see a lot more of you from up here. Hi." She gave a little wave.

They laughed.

"Thank you all so much for this award," she said. "Though really it belongs to every one of the employees of Smoak Technologies."

The crowd at the back cheered.

"Thank you for working so hard," Felicity continued. "Thank you for working through setbacks and inventions that don't work the first time. Oh, and thank you to Curtis Holt, without whom we wouldn't have nearly so many inventions to try."

Curtis raised his glass to her. The crowd clapped.

Beside the bar, one of the waiters got ready to open the next of a long line of bottles of champagne. Several others joined him.

Oliver held his own glass up, ready for the toast when the speech was done. He watched the bubbles as they rose.

Bubbles. Huh.

"But our business would not be nearly as successful without the help we have received from the city government." Felicity looked around the crowd, then paused, looking thoughtful, for a moment before continuing. "I would especially like to thank our mayor, Oliver Queen..."

Beside the bar, the waiters and the bartender started to open more of the champagne bottles.

"You look beautiful," Oliver whispered, and dove to the side, pulling any people he could reach down with him, as dozens of champagne bottles burst open. 

The ballroom erupted in noise. But not in flames.

All around the room, police were moving people towards the doors. The podium was empty, and Felicity was nowhere to be seen. The ARGUS agents headed towards the bar, where Thea was getting back to her feet, apologizing to the city councilman who had been pushed out of the way when she dove. She was drenched with champagne.

Oliver started getting to his feet, then lent a hand to the people he had shoved to the floor.

Susan Williams was the last one. "You have very impressive reflexes, Mr. Queen," she said. "What was that all about?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's point-of-view (next) will explain what happened.


	12. Reaction Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is split between Felicity's and Oliver's POVs.

"Over-pressured champagne bottles," Detective Malone said. "Twelve of them, by the bar."

"I thought it was an explosion," Felicity admitted. 

"I did, too," Malone said. "And we'll still need to check the bottles, to make sure there wasn't more to it. It could have been another attempted bombing."

They were standing outside the nearest fire exit to the podium, in the middle of a crowd of people. Felicity shivered. Malone took off his jacket and handed it to her.

"I need to go back inside and make sure everything is clear," Malone said. "But you need to stay out here. You can get the jacket back to me this weekend."

"Thanks," Felicity said. 

Curtis walked over to her. "Seriously?"

"I am seriously cold, and the detective was seriously nice to give me his suit jacket," Felicity said. "So, yes. Seriously."

"I've never been evacuated because of exploding champagne bottles before," Curtis said. "I thought they had started putting champagne in stronger bottles?"

"Me, too," Felicity said. 

"Hey, are you two ok?" John rushed up beside them.

"Yeah," Felicity said.

"Whose jacket is that?" Rene asked.

"Detective Malone's," Curtis replied.

John and Rene gave Felicity a Look. 

"Where's Thea?" Felicity said. "She was near the bar."

"She's fine," Lyla said, coming up to join them. "She was close enough to be a witness, so the police are questioning her."

"What about Oliver?" Curtis asked, giving Felicity a loaded look. "He hit the ground at the same time that Felicity dived off the stage." 

"Nice move, by the way, Blondie," Rene said. "I didn't know you could move so fast."

"Oliver is still inside," Lyla said. "He's talking to the police. He'll probably need to handle the press, too." 

Felicity already knew that – she was listening to Oliver's conversations over the comms.

"How about our employees?" Felicity asked Curtis. "We invited them. We'd better make sure they're ok."

"Most of them went out that door," Curtis pointed to another group of people. "But some might have evacuated into the lobby."

"Let's go check on them," Felicity said. "John, Lyla – could you do me a favor and check the other exits for my employees? I don't know if the police are going to let us back in, or send us home, or keep us here all night until they've got reports from every witness. But I should talk to my people."

"We'll take care of it," Lyla said.

"And congratulations again." John pulled Felicity into a huge, warm hug. "You deserve all the awards." 

"But less chaos," Rene agreed. 

"Thanks, all of you," Felicity said. "Now go, please. I'm sure everyone is cold and confused." 

"Including Paul," Curtis said. "Let me get him, and I'll be right over."

"What about me?" Rene asked.

"Could you come with me?" Felicity asked. "In case I need someone to run messages to the other group." 

"Lead the way, Blondie," Rene said.

Cameras flashed as they worked their way through the crowd.

"I thought the press was all inside?" Rene asked.

Felicity shook her head. "They'll be wherever there's a story." She glanced around. "And a lot of those are cell phone cameras. Check Instagram. Not the evening news."

"Everyone wants pictures from the Great Champagne Bombing, huh?" Rene asked.

"Or something like that." Felicity stopped suddenly. "Alena! Are you ok?"

Alena nodded, then shook her head. "Yes. No. I don't know." She frowned. "You were giving your speech – nice speech, by the way – and then suddenly you dove off the stage, and people were shouting. What happened?"

"Some champagne bottles exploded, and Blondie over-reacted," Rene answered.

"Alena, this is Rene," Felicity said. "He works for a private security company. He's helping investigate the incident." She gave Rene a sharp look and hoped he would know to just shut up. 

"Nice to meet you," Alena said, shaking Rene's hand. She shivered. "Wow. It's cold out here. I had no idea that fancy dresses were so impractical." She eyed the jacket covering Felicity's shoulders. "Where did you get that jacket?"

"A friend of mine gave it to me," Felicity said. 

"Oh!" Alena looked at it more closely. "The mayor?"

"No," Felicity said. "One of the police working security. A friend of mine. Detective Malone."

"Oh." Alena looked disappointed, and shivered again.

"Here," Rene said, taking off his jacket. "Wear this. You look really cold."

"Thanks," Alena replied, pulling the sleeves over her arms. "That's a lot better."

"Look," Felicity said. "I'm trying to find the rest of the Smoak Tech people. Have you seen anyone?" 

"Some of the guys from the factory are right over there," Alena said, pointing. 

"Great," Felicity said. "I'm going to tell them what's going on. Or at least as much as I know."

"What should I do?" Alena asked. 

"It depends on what the police want," Felicity replied. "They might let us back in after they decide it's safe. They might send us home. They might ask some of us to stay for questioning."

"Oh," Alena said.

"So..." Felicity looked around to see who else was there. "Look, you can stay if you want, but there won't be much else happening. Or you can just go home. Especially if you're cold." 

"Thanks," Alena said. "I might do that." 

"Well..." Felicity paused awkwardly. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." She frowned. "No. Wait. Tomorrow's Saturday. I'll see you next week."

Alena smiled. "See you soon!" 

*

"You have very impressive reflexes, Mr. Queen," Susan Williams said. "What was that all about?"

"I have no idea," Oliver said. "I thought there was an explosion..."

"I could almost have believed gunshots," Susan said. "But I think it was just the champagne." She looked carefully at Oliver. "And you dove before I heard anything."

"Reflexes, like you said," Oliver smiled. "I've been playing a lot of one-on-one handball."

"I see," Susan said.

"Sorry about knocking you down," Oliver said. "I hope you didn't get hurt." 

"I'm fine," Susan replied. "And you can knock me over any time you like, Mr. Queen."

Oliver wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Fortunately, the police chief arrived and provided a change in conversation.

"We're evacuating the premises," the chief said. "And we're gathering witnesses. Did you see anything?" 

"I just heard the sound, and reacted," Oliver said. "Too many meetings about the last explosion."

"We can't let the ceremony continue until we know everything is safe and secure," the chief said.

"Would you be willing to explain what happened?" Susan asked. "On the record."

"Not until we have some conclusions, Ms. Williams," the chief replied.

"I see," Susan said. "I hope you don't mind if I stay inside." 

The police chief grunted. "Just stay over here, and away from the crime scene." He looked at Oliver. "One of the officers will be by to take your statement." 

He left. Oliver tried to split his attention between surveying the scene and listening to the comms – Felicity was apologizing to several people, and it sounded as though she was leaving the building. Curtis was with her. She sounded fine.

"Mr. Queen?" It was Dinah, wearing her professional face. "I'm here to take your statement." She looked at Susan. "Could you excuse us?"

"Certainly," Susan said. "I need to find my cameraman. I assume you will be talking to the press when you have more information, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver nodded. He hoped he would have a chance to gather his thoughts before facing public questions.

Dinah was waiting, outwardly patient, with a notebook out. 

Oliver nodded and began. "Ms. Smoak was giving her acceptance speech," he said, "and I heard a loud noise from near the bar. I thought it was an explosion, and I reacted." Oliver shrugged. "There have been a lot of meetings about the bombing investigation lately. I must have been thinking about them."

Dinah gave him a look and closed her notebook. "I'll take that statement for the record," she said, "but you dove at the same time that Felicity jumped off the stage. BEFORE the noise from the champagne bottles." 

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her. "You know how quickly I react."

"That's why I'm asking again, Oliver," Dinah said, glancing around and lowering her voice. "That wasn't the reaction of the mayor. That was pure Green Arrow. What did you see?" She gave him a careful look. "And before you tell me about seeing what Thea did, I've already taken her statement. She didn't move until she heard the champagne bottles. And she hit the ground because she saw you moving first."

Oliver looked at her steadily. "As I said in my official statement, I've been worried about the bombings. As both the mayor AND the other guy. I thought I saw something, and I overreacted."

Dinah shook her head. "That's not the kind of mistake you make," she said. "Especially not when you're wearing a tux." Her body language suddenly changed. "The DA is walking towards us. We'll talk more later." 

"Oliver," Adrian said as he walked up, "This is a complete public relations disaster. What are you going to do?"

Oliver lifted his head and straightened his jacket. "I'm going to talk to the press."

He looked around the emptying room until he saw Susan, then waved her over. Her cameramen followed behind.

"I guess you won't need to talk about the hors d'oeuvres on the news tonight," Oliver said, and gave his most charming smile to the camera.


	13. Threat Analysis

Felicity stood in front of the big screen in the bunker, watching the late news. "At least they're making a joke of it," she said.

"Nobody died," Oliver said. "A little bit of humor is reasonable." 

The video footage showed Felicity diving off the podium, and then standing in the parking lot, wearing Billy Malone's jacket, smiling as she received her plaque. Then it shifted to another view of the exploding champagne bottles, and a close-up of Oliver explaining what had happened.

 _And we can all be thankful that our mayor is so quick to protect us_ , Susan Williams finished, as the video showing Oliver pushing her to the ground played one more time.

Felicity clicked it off. "Thanks for thinking of Thea's dress," she said. "I'm glad you remembered that I keep extra clothes here – I mean, extra clothes that everyone knows about. It shouldn't take long to finish analyzing whatever got on it."

"The police were collecting samples," Oliver said. "You should talk to Detective Malone and try to get their results, too."

"I'll have a chance soon," she said. "I still need to return his jacket." It was lying over the back of one of the chairs. Felicity had already changed into yoga pants and a sweater before Oliver arrived, but Oliver was still in his tux.

"So I guess we can breathe easier now," Oliver said. "Maybe things will get quiet." 

Felicity pulled up her Twitter mentions. "Ummm..." 

_oh wow that dress #OlicityAward_

_look at her dammit #MayorMcHottie look at her #OlicityAward_

_wtf handshake??? #OlicityAward_

_kiss the girl #OlicityAward_

_#KissTheGirl_

_come on #MayorMcHottie #KissTheGirl_

_or at least look at her #MayorMcHottie_

_OMG SHE SAID HIS NAME SHE KNOWS HE'S THERE #OlicityAward_

_this is it! she thanked him!!! #OlicityAward_

_just say you love him you know you do #OlicityAward_

_whoa what just happened #OlicityAward_

_was that an explosion #OlicityAward_

_they're evacuating #OlicityAward_

_maybe he'll rescue her #OlicityAward_

_carry her out of a burning building #OlicityAward_

_that would be so romantic #OlicityAward_

_oh yuck Felicity you stupid bitch why is that detective there_

_what is Felicity wearing_

_that's not #MayorMcHottie's jacket_

_why is she wearing #DetectiveTinyHands jacket thats so gross_

_she should burn that dress now_

_#BurnTheDress_

_I hate that detective_

_just die now #DetectiveTinyHands_

_#BurnTheJacket #BurnTheDress_

_where's #MayorMcHottie_

_go to her #MayorMcHottie Felicity needs you_

_save her from the evil jacket #MayorMcHottie_

_kill the jacket save Felicity #MayorMcHottie_

_#MayorMcHottie 's still inside – he needs to go outside #saveFelicity #KillTheJacket_

_wait he dove on that reporter bitch #MayorMcNotHottie_

_what's he doing with that bitch_

_I hate that reporter bitch why is she talking to #MayorMcHottie_

_evil witch reporter_

_burn the witch_

_I hope a building explodes with the evil witch reporter and detective tinyhands in it_

 

Oliver read them. "They aren't that different from before," he said.

"They were awful before," Felicity reminded him. 

"But there wasn't a bomb at the awards," Oliver pointed out. "We were wrong."

"No, there wasn't a bomb." Felicity stared at the screen. "And the normal Internet advice would be to ignore all of these, they're just trolls, they'll go away." She shook her head. "But this still feels more dangerous than that."

*

The liquid on Thea's dress was just champagne – nothing else. Felicity dropped the dress off at the dry cleaners and sent Thea a text, apologizing for the mess. Thea texted back, with her own long apology for the behavior of her idiot brother.

Felicity showed the exchange to Oliver after he came back to the bunker from his morning run. He was just amused.

The Internet was, if anything, angrier than it had been the night before. Someone put the entire evening's events together through a series of photos, with commentary and rants about what a waste of time the entire thing had been.

There were more death threats, too. Against Felicity. Against Billy Malone. And now, against Susan Williams, for the crime of being squashed under an over-reacting Oliver. 

Felicity rolled her eyes and went for a long walk to clear her head. 

* 

Felicity's phone buzzed. It was Lyla, so she answered it, even though she was in the middle of trying another text analysis on the death threats on Twitter.

"Hi, Lyla!" Felicity said. "Sorry I hardly got a chance to talk to you last night! How are things?"

"They would be better if my analysts didn't keep picking up death threats against you," Lyla said. 

"I know about them," Felicity said. "On Twitter. Right?"

"This one's not the usual pattern," Lyla said. "There's a guy on Reddit who's demanding that someone kill you, or he'll destroy the Internet."

"Really." Felicity tapped a few search terms.

"Let me know if you need backup," Lyla said. "I would come down in person, but Sara doesn't have daycare on weekends, and I don't trust her in the bunker any more."

Felicity heard a voice in the background. "Mommy, who's that?"

"Hi, Sara!" Felicity said. "What are you up to?"

"Felicity!" Sara squealed. "Are you coming over to play? The princess built a rocket ship from my Legos, and her dragon is making it fly!"

"With its wings?" Felicity asked.

"No, silly," Sara said. "Breathing its fire out of the back. Just like you told me. The New Town laws."

"Newton's Laws," Felicity said. "Excellent! Where is the princess going?"

"In Salad-us," Sara said.

"Enceladus?" Felicity asked.

"Yes! That one!" Sara paused. "Are you coming too?"

"Not today, Pumpkin," Felicity said. "Maybe next trip." 

"Oh," Sara said. "Ok."

"Wait, don't hang up," Lyla said in the background. Then, as if she had just grabbed the phone back again, "Sorry."

"That's ok," Felicity said. "I want to go to Enceladus with Sara's dragon, too."

Lyla laughed. "Just let me know if you need any help saving the Internet," she said.

"Will do," Felicity replied, and ended the call.

*

It didn't take long to find the Reddit post with the death threat. Felicity skimmed through the thread, then shook her head.

"A conspiracy theory group that's convinced that Laurel is actually alive and being held in a secret prison," she said. "Seriously?"

Oliver walked in while she was talking to herself. He shrugged. "It's not the weirdest conspiracy that I've ever heard," he said.

"No, but they're convinced that I'm the Evil Mastermind behind it all. Well, me and Dinah. Thus: death threats."

"More death threats?" Oliver looked over her shoulder and read part of the thread. "Um... That's not the way the Lazarus Pit works." 

"Plus Nyssa destroyed it," Felicity added.

"Why are you investigating these?" Oliver asked. "I can't even figure out what these guys are saying."

Felicity shrugged. "Lyla called and said someone was threatening to destroy the Internet. She thought it was in my wheelhouse. Plus she needed to go to the moons of Saturn with Sara today." 

"Sara Lance is here?" Oliver looked confused.

"No, Sara Diggle. The rocket ship is built of Legos. Don't worry about it." Felicity typed some more. "It looks like the threats were sent from the web browser on a cell phone," she said. 

"Can you find its location?" Oliver asked. "Never mind. Dumb question."

"Someday you won't even bother asking," Felicity replied. "It's in the basement of the Federal Building. And there's more than one phone sending a message."

Oliver read the post. "The Internet is kept in a vault? I didn't know that."

"No," Felicity said. "It's not." She pulled up the blueprints of the Federal Building. "That's the server room. They keep backup files of paperwork down there. But there is a router that connects it to the Internet."

"Are there cameras?" Oliver asked. "I know we've had bad luck with cameras lately..."

"Yes, there are," Felicity said, pulling up the footage. "Oh. Seriously?"

"What?" Oliver asked. 

"That guy," Felicity said, pointing to the screen, "is Jeremy Dunning. And his friend is Jason Kruger. They applied for Alena's job at Smoak Technologies." 

"What are they doing?" Oliver asked. "Did they just... drag the security guard down the hall and press his hand against the doorknob?"

"That's what it looks like to me," Felicity said. "Looks like the door was unlocked, though. And they're wandering around the server room looking for a keyboard."

"Can they actually destroy the Internet from there?" Oliver asked.

"As much as they could from any place with Internet access," Felicity said. "They could do a denial-of-service attack that interfered with domain name servers. They could upload malware onto the government computers and get people to enter their social security numbers into fake sites. They could even try to propagate a fake DNS lookup table, so nobody would be able to connect the domain names to the correct IP addresses." She frowned. "But I think they're just going to accidentally delete all the information about the Superfund cleanup work by the bay. Which would still be bad."

"So what are you going to do?" Oliver asked.

"Well, first, I'm going to set up a loop on their router so they don't accidentally connect to anything outside that room. And then I'm going to lock the doors to the room and call Dinah. She's working today, right?" 

"She is," Oliver confirmed. "And just Dinah? Not the team? Not ARGUS?"

"Yes," Felicity said. "These guys don't rate a secret government agency, and besides, Lyla's finally got a day to spend with Sara. We don't need to bother her for this." 

Oliver watched the camera. "Tell Dinah to bring medical help, too," he said. "That security guard is still down."

*

"...and they had lemon juice on their faces," Dinah said. "Because they heard that lemon juice was used to make invisible ink, and if it made ink invisible, it should make them invisible, too."

Oliver had headed out when he heard that Dinah was coming back, so it was just Dinah and Felicity in the bunker.

"Wow." Felicity shook her head. "Those two are worse than I realized when they applied for the job. But you arrested them?"

"Breaking and entering," Dinah said. "Thanks for setting off the alarm there, by the way. That gave us a good reason to check it out."

"What happened to the security guard?" Felicity asked. 

"He had actually just had a seizure. Or maybe a stroke. Your friends Dunning and Kruger just happened to enter the building when he was having a medical problem, and wasn't able to stop them."

"So they weren't much of a threat to anyone," Felicity said. "Unless they decided to pour more lemon juice on a bunch of hard drives."

"That was what they were trying to do when we broke into the room," Dinah said. "They thought they could erase the Internet, the same way that they could make themselves invisible."

"See, that would have done some real damage, unless the Superfund files are backed up," Felicity said. "I hope the EPA backs up its data."

"Your friend Detective Malone was pretty concerned about the situation," Dinah said. "He was worried about the death threats against you."

Felicity nodded.

"I think he likes you," Dinah said. 

"Lots of people like me," Felicity said. "Well, they used to. Until I started running a company." 

"Yeah," Dinah said. "But Malone _really_ likes you. He questioned Dunning and Kruger about all sorts of other things, too. Including exploding champagne." 

Felicity looked as innocent as possible. 

"You still have Malone's jacket?" Dinah asked. 

"Yes," Felicity said. "I should probably text him and get it back to him tomorrow."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that," Dinah said, "whether he cares about the jacket or not."

*

"Thanks again for the jacket," Felicity said. "Being warm is good."

Billy smiled. "Any time you need it," he said. "Just glad I could help." 

"Well, I appreciate all the help I can get," Felicity smiled back. "Speaking of which. You didn't happen to run any forensics on those champagne bottles, did you?"

Billy nodded.

"And...?" Felicity tried to look innocent as she asked.

"And... it was champagne," Billy said. "Just champagne. In all of them."

"That's good," Felicity said. "Right?"

Billy leaned forward. "Felicity. I'm worried about you. We had another call today – a couple guys who broke into a government building. They said they wanted you dead."

Felicity shrugged. "Price of fame and success. Yes?"

Billy shook his head. "It's not the kind of price you should pay. Ever."


	14. Too Quiet

"Have you recovered from your... fall... on Friday night, Mr. Mayor?" the police chief asked.

Oliver smiled his most pleasantly dangerous smile as the police chief laughed at his own joke. "I'm just glad that no one was hurt," he replied.

"At least the mayor had a pleasant landing place," Adrian added. His smile looked almost like a leer. "I didn't see everything that happened until the news came on. Nice work."

Oliver pretended that he didn't hear that last part. "I didn't see everything that happened, either. Did the police find anything in the champagne?"

"Nothing," the chief said. 

"Well, this has taken the heat off of us to prosecute someone for the bombing," Adrian said.

"Which will give you more time to work on your leads?" Oliver asked.

"Naw," the chief said. "We're going to focus on more productive investigations. The explosion case is turning cold."

*

It was a quiet week at Smoak Technologies.

Of course, almost anything would have been quiet after the previous week. Well, except for a thermonuclear bomb. Or aliens. Or a visit from the League of Assassins. Or... well, ok. Maybe contemplating the alternatives wasn't such a good idea.

Hiring Alena was the best decision Felicity had made in a long time. That girl could _code._ But even better, she anticipated problems before Felicity and Curtis even recognized them, which eliminated days – maybe even weeks – of dead ends. The load-balancing software was amazing. And it had the potential to be tweaked to solve other problems, like the timing of traffic lights, or maybe even optimizing the speed of self-driving cars. 

Ok, so the investigation into the bombings was at a standstill – Felicity and Oliver didn't have any more leads, and the police had basically closed the investigation. And the constant stream of online hate, especially aimed at Susan Williams and Billy Malone, showed no sign of diminishing. But all in all, things were good.

Not that Billy got the memo. He was trying to connect the dots between the bombings and the Dunning/Kruger team-up. And that meant that he texted Felicity every day, asking her to meet him at Jitters. She went – what if he had found something this time?

None of Billy's leads went anywhere. For any reasonable definition of 'anywhere.' Of course, that didn't stop the Internet from working itself into a daily rage when the inevitable photos of Felicity and Billy appeared. But even that was turning into background noise. 

Things at the factory weren't going smoothly, either. Although Alena's coding solved a lot of the software problems, Felicity and Curtis were still trying to produce a battery. Curtis had been at the factory's lab, trying different processes to deposit exactly the right composition and thickness of the alloy, but nothing worked.

"Maybe you should take a break from thinking about it," Felicity suggested. "Have another pair of eyes look at it. I mean, I'm not a metallurgist, but I had to take chemistry and basic materials science when I started out at MIT..."

"I know some chemistry," Alena offered. "I minored in Chemical Engineering."

Felicity and Curtis looked at her. 

"I mean, I realize that you just hired me. The problem is above my pay grade, isn't it." It wasn't even a question.

Felicity looked at Curtis. He shrugged back.

"Sure," Felicity said. "Come along."

*

City Council had another vote about adding bike lanes.

Oliver sat and listened to the debate. Loss of parking. Or travel lanes. Or... whatever they had lost in Vancouver, with the barricades separating the cars from the bicycles. But on the other hand, it would reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and make the population healthier.

And then there was a side discussion about creating an off-leash dog park, spurred by a "but why can't they just all walk their dogs?" comment from one of the councilmen.

After that came an extended discussion about the budget for the fire department versus the police versus road work, which segued into speculation about whether the tax base would increase if Smoak Technologies really took off.

And then a proposal for re-developing the Superfund site down by the waterfront, though a soil scientist testified that the work wasn't finished and it wasn't safe to develop the waterfront yet.

And then the meeting was over. Oliver hadn't had to get involved in anything. There weren't any new policies that he would have to administer. He hadn't had to testify, either, which was usually good news.

Only a handful of reporters were covering this session. Typical, except when something controversial or scandalous happened. Oliver walked past the small crowd, nodding and smiling. 

Susan Williams was standing at the edge of the group. Oliver gave her the same polite nod as before.

"Mr. Mayor," she smiled back. "Do you have any new comments on the events of last week?"

Oliver saw her recorder and stopped briefly. "I'm just glad that nobody was hurt," he said. "And I'm trying to be less jumpy."

Susan raised her eyebrows as he walked by.

Adrian Chase was waiting for him, just past the press. "Less jumpy, huh?" he asked. "She sounded disappointed."

"Were you looking for me, Adrian?" Oliver asked. 

"Just wanted to make sure that you know about the cases we've got coming up," Adrian replied, following Oliver down the corridor to his office. "In case you get asked for your opinions by the press." Adrian glanced back. "They're very... persistent."

"That's true." Oliver tried to sound agreeable.

"The list of cases is in this file," Adrian said. "You might be interested in the last one. It involves a couple of guys who threatened to kill your ex-fiancée." He gave Oliver one of his hard-to-read looks – raised eyebrow, crooked smile. "I know she's moved on. But you still might be curious. Or the press might be."

"Thanks for the heads-up," Oliver said as they reached Oliver's office door. "I'll take a look at these when I have a chance."

Adrian gave that smile again – was it a smile, or more of a leer? - and walked away.

*

Felicity was glad that Alena had come along to the factory. It wasn't just the insightful questions, or the way that Curtis started scribbling down ideas on his tablet and ran off to the lab to try something new. It was the excited energy that Alena had. The sentences that Felicity started and Alena finished. The photos that she asked Felicity to take of her. The selfies of the two of them.

The brainstorming tour took the entire rest of the afternoon. When it was over, Felicity sent Alena straight home, then picked up some take-out herself and went back to the bunker. It was quiet – Dinah was working a late shift, John and Rene had a security job that evening, and Curtis stayed in his lab at the factory until around 7. And then he went straight home to Paul, because he had been out late the last few nights, and Paul was starting to wonder what was going on.

Felicity kicked off her heels, unzipped her skirt, slipped into a comfortable pair of yoga pants, and wrapped one of the afghans around her shoulders. It was time to settle in front of her computer and binge-watch a bit more Orphan Black while waiting for Oliver to arrive.

She didn't hear him come in. That shouldn't have been a surprise – he _was_ the Green Arrow; he was good at slipping into buildings without being seen or heard – but she still jumped when she spun her chair at the end of the episode and saw him standing behind her.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said back. She sat and watched him for a few moments more, then slowly got to her feet.

He didn't move.

Felicity took one step forward, then another. And then she was within touching distance, but she didn't reach out until she had taken two more steps and could smell the exhaust from his motorcycle, the dust of the city streets, and underneath all that a slight hint of sweat. Not workout sweat. Just day-at-the-office sweat.

He still didn't move.

Felicity slipped one hand beneath the collar of his leather jacket, just far enough to feel the muscles of his shoulders beneath his shirt.

He didn't even twitch.

Slowly, she ran a finger along his collarbone, slipping down every so often to brush his pec, as if by accident, and then back again. Finally, she pushed the jacket off his shoulder and down one arm, and then turned her attention to his other side. 

Finally, when the jacket was dangling from his wrists, he moved. It took barely a twist of his wrists to let the jacket slide free, and then it was his turn to touch her – her hair, her blouse, her bra straps barely hidden beneath her own collar.

She pulled away so she could undo her buttons as his pulled his own shirt over his head.

And then they were on the mat, as if they had teleported or were metahumans who could make their clothes instantly disappear, and Oliver's lips were on her ear and Felicity was climbing to her usual spot on top of him, and then he was flipping them over and he was inside her and the world turned into fireworks.

Felicity's phone buzzed. It wasn't anywhere near the mat – it sounded like it was somewhere near the computer.

Oliver stopped thrusting and looked at her. "Do you need to get that?"

"No," Felicity said. "I need this." And she wrapped her legs around him, a bit higher, changing the angle and sparking a second orgasm.

Oliver groaned as he finally let himself go, too.

They were panting, lying forehead-to-forehead, when Oliver's phone buzzed.

She looked at him. "You'd probably better get that," she said. "If we both get a call... " She didn't have to finish that sentence.

Oliver nodded, then reluctantly pulled away. He had to stand up and walk back to his jacket to find his phone. It stopped buzzing before he reached it, but then started again.

That was the first warning to Felicity that this might be bad.

"Hi, Dinah," Oliver said into his phone. "What's going on?"

He tilted his head and frowned. "What do you mean, have I heard from Felicity?" he asked.

Felicity sat up. He shook his head slightly. 

"I'll check it out," he said. "Thanks for the heads up."

"What was that all about?" Felicity asked.

"Dinah was at the police station when Detective Malone got a text," he said.

"And...?" Felicity asked.

"It was from your number," Oliver said. "It said _Help_."


	15. Where There's Smoak (Technologies), There's Fire

Oliver could hear Felicity talking to Dinah on the phone while he was changing into his leathers. 

"Sorry... I was in the shower. I didn't hear the phone. Yes, I know that's not like me." A pause. "Really? Wow. That's bizarre. But I'm fine, I'm here on the phone with you. Yes, this is most definitely my phone." Another pause. "There's video? Do you have it? Yes, please send it to me. Sure, I can analyze it while I'm on comms with Oliver. I know, I know, it will be weird to analyze _me_ , but that's what I do, Dinah. No, really, I'll be ok. You don't need to call Curtis."

Felicity ended the call as Oliver walked over to her station, adjusting the straps on his quiver. "You're sure you don't want Curtis here?"

"No," she said. "I mean, _yes_ , I'm sure. Dinah said that Billy has already headed out. And... I just don't need Curtis's constant commentary about my love life. The bombs have always been small – nuisances, except for that first one. We just need to catch whoever is doing this." She gave him that look that he couldn't say _no_ to. "I think this is our real break."

"You really think this is our bomber this time?" Oliver asked. 

"Yes," Felicity responded. "You know how the security cameras have always shown us absolutely nothing from every bombing?"

Oliver nodded.

"They were wiped. I'm sure they were wiped. By someone with serious video editing skills." Felicity gave him a significant look. "The kind of skills that would let someone make a video that looked like me, the kind of skills that could spoof a call from my phone."

"But now our bomber is after Detective Malone..." Oliver said.

"Because they think I'm dating him," Felicity finished. "But they didn't count on Dinah contacting _you_. The _green_ you, I mean."

Oliver checked his flechettes. "I'd better get going," he said. "Otherwise the warning won't make any difference."

"I'll keep an eye on you," Felicity said. "I programmed all the security cameras at the factory myself. My backup plans have backup plans there." She grabbed his arm and pulled him down into a kiss.

"We'll get them this time," Oliver said. He hoped he was telling the truth. 

*

Felicity watched the video – the one that Billy had forwarded to Dinah, and Dinah had forwarded to her.

It was good. Well, not _good_. It was incredibly well done. Especially given that she had never said those particular words, at least in that particular order. Or in that particular place.

 _I'm in my factory_ , Felicity watched herself say. _They say they're going to kill me. Help me. Please_.

 _Any clues?_ The roar of the motorcycle said that Oliver hadn't arrived at the factory yet.

"It looks like me," Felicity said. "Except it isn't. Obviously. And it looks like my office space in the Smoak Technologies factory."

 _So somebody has footage of you that they could edit?_ Oliver asked.

"Yes," Felicity said. "Though I've been on TV a lot. It wouldn't be hard to find footage to edit."

 _YOU could do something like this?_ The motorcycle roared as if accelerating. _Sorry._ _Silly question. Of course you can._

"It's not even that hard," Felicity said. "I mean, it's a specialized skill, and yes, I am _that_ good. But it's not a one-in-a-million type skill."

The motorcycle went silent. _I'm here_ , Oliver said.

"Wait for a second," Felicity said. "I'll silence the alarms."

 _I don't hear any alarms_ , Oliver said. _Am I the first one here?_

Felicity checked the traffic cameras. "Billy should have been there ten minutes ago," she said, "but I don't see or hear anything in the building."

 _I'll go in through the window_ , Oliver said. There was a crash of breaking glass. _Sorry. I hope I didn't break anything important._

"We should have designed the factory to be Arrow-proof," Felicity said. "But you've gone in through a storeroom for spare parts. You should be ok." 

 _Where now?_ Oliver asked.

"There's... nothing," Felicity said. "All the cameras are showing an empty building."

 _I think I see one in front of me._ There was a pause. _Did you see me waving to you?_

"No," Felicity admitted. "Which is too bad. I bet you were really cute."

 _I tried,_ Oliver said.

"Well, it looks like I'm flying blind. AGAIN." This was really annoying. It was HER building. She was ready to take down this bomber for once and for all, just for messing with her video feeds.

 _What about Malone?_ Oliver asked. _How would he know where to go?_

Felicity thought for a moment. "The picture was from my other office, the factory office," she said. "But would he know the building plans...?"

 _Let's assume he does,_ Oliver said. _The police have floor plans for all the old warehouses._

"Ok, then," Felicity said. "Take the first hallway to your right." She didn't have the plans up, but she could picture the entire building, inside and out. 

There was a pause. _The hallway just ended_ , Oliver said. _Where now?_

"Left," Felicity said. "And then through the doorway on your right."

The comms were silent again. Felicity worried the fingernail on her left index finger until it tore.

Then she heard Oliver's voice through the modulator. _Detective Malone,_ he said, _don't go in there._

*

The hallway was half hidden in shadows, half revealed by the moonlight that glimmered through the office windows. Felicity had talked about how much she loved those windows when she had first checked out the warehouse options. But now, they made it difficult to see the detective, with their mixture of light and shadow. 

"Why?" Malone called.

"It's dangerous," Oliver said through his modulator. "You're walking into a trap." 

"But Felicity Smoak is already caught in the trap," Malone said. "I need to get her out."

"I promise you, she'll be fine," Oliver said. 

"Why?" Malone said.

"Your friend asks too many questions," Oliver muttered into the comms.

 _That's why he's a detective,_ Felicity replied. _Just answer him._

"I'll keep her safe," Oliver said. 

Malone stood up taller. "I see," he said. "You want to get to play the hero with her. Again."

"That's not it," Oliver replied. 

 _Oh my god, not the macho posturing,_ Felicity said over the comms. _Billy, you idiot, just stop it._

"You've been in love with her for years," Malone continued. "Even back when you were just the Arrow."

"That was someone else," Oliver said.

"Sure it was," Malone said. "Same build. Same skill with a bow. Same obsession with Felicity Smoak. Arrow, Green Arrow... you're the same person."

 _I told you he was a detective,_ Felicity said through the comms. 

"I'm not your competition," Oliver insisted.

"Maybe not," Malone said. "But she's in there, and you're just out here talking to me."

And with that, he turned into the shadows and disappeared.

Oliver started to follow him when the room burst into flames.

*

The explosion was loud, even through the comms. 

"Green Arrow?" Felicity said. "Oliver? OLIVER?!?"

There was a pause, then Oliver's voice came over the comms. _I'm ok,_ he said. _But your office is on fire._

"I'll call 911," Felicity said. "And I'll let Dinah know what happened."

There was a sound of smashing glass, a crunch of metal, and something that sounded like water. Oh, and a loud, high-pitched siren.

 _I pulled your fire alarm,_ Oliver said. _The sprinklers are on now. And I've got a fire extinguisher. But I can't get into your office._

"Good with the fire extinguisher," Felicity replied. "How's Billy?"

There was a loud noise. Oliver must have emptied the fire extinguisher _. I can't see Malone,_ he said. _He's still in there. In your office. It's still burning._

Felicity pulled out her phone and dialed 911. "I'd like to report a fire. Smoak Technologies factory." She paused while they responded. "Sorry. Yes, this is Felicity Smoak. No, I'm not at the scene, I just saw an alarm."

"Are there any hazardous chemicals?" the dispatcher asked.

"Not in that room," Felicity said. "I mean, we've designed the alarms so we know where the fire is. In the building, I mean. This one's on the first floor, in an office." 

"Is there anyone in the building?" the dispatcher asked.

Felicity paused. "Yes," she said. "There is. Please hurry."

"This is the fire dispatch, Ms. Smoak," the voice said. It might have been amused. "We always hurry."

"Right," Felicity said. "Ummm. Thanks." She waited until it was ok – you're supposed to stay on the line, right? – and then finally hung up.

Dinah called before Felicity had a chance to tap Dinah's contact info.

"What happened?" Dinah asked. "I heard fire department get paged out over my radio."

"My factory is on fire," Felicity said. "Oliver's ok. He pulled the fire alarm."

"Weren't your smoke detectors working?" Dinah asked.

"They're integrated into our security system," Felicity said. Curtis had made a lot of really bad jokes about the ' _Smoak_ detectors.' "The security was down when Oliver went in." 

"What happened to Malone?" Dinah asked.

"He was inside," Felicity said. "In my office. Where the fire was."

Dinah paused. "Shit," she said. "I told him not to go. But he was off duty." She sighed. "I was still on duty, and I thought you and Oliver would be better backup than calling another cop. And..." 

Felicity frowned at her phone. "And...?" 

"And Chief Smith is an ass. He's been giving Malone crap for the past week about talking to you, telling him to... well, you don't need to hear that kind of toxic masculinity." Dinah sighed. "It's bad enough that I had to hear it."

"I'm sorry," Felicity said. 

"Hold on," Dinah interrupted. 

Something that could have been a voice, punctuated by static, came over the phone. Felicity couldn't make it out.

"They're paging us out for an investigation," Dinah said. "Sounds like the fire's under control. But they'll probably be contacting you." She paused. "It's your building."

"Right." Felicity listened to the silence after Dinah ended the call.

*

Oliver slipped into the shadows when the fire trucks pulled up. There was smoke pouring out of the office, but nothing else in the building seemed in danger from burning. The sprinklers were doing their job, he thought, as water dripped from his hood to his nose.

But he didn't leave. He watched one fire crew rush down the hallway. Another must have been outside, with hoses, if the crash of broken glass was any indication. 

The flames disappeared.

The smoke gradually cleared.

And finally, the fire crew emerged, carrying a stretcher. The figure on it was charred and unrecognizable.

Well. Barely recognizable.

Oliver swallowed and switched on his comms.

"Overwatch?" he said. "I think they've got Malone."

 _You think?_ Felicity's voice came, tight and worried. _What do you mean?_

"Felicity," Oliver said, "Billy Malone is dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I killed Billy.


	16. Fallout

The front of the factory strobed blue and red, reflecting the lights from the police cars and fire trucks.

Felicity huddled in her warm coat and looked at the broken glass. "No," she said to the unfamiliar detective. "I didn't see who was in there. I just knew that an alarm had gone off." 

"But you told the fire dispatch that _someone_ was in there," he said.

"Yes," Felicity agreed. "But all the alarms are integrated. I mean, all the alarms are part of one system."

"A window in the back of the building was broken," the detective continued. "Why didn't you contact the police before the fire started?"

"I was in the shower," Felicity said. "I saw both of the notifications at once."

"The shower...?" The detective looked interested.

Felicity remembered what Dinah had told her about the department's climate, and gave him a chilly look. "I was away from my desk," she said. "It's evening."

"I see," he said. "Do you have any idea why Detective Malone was in your building?"

Felicity shrugged.

"He was seeing you, wasn't he?" the detective pressed on.

"He _wanted_ to be seeing her, you mean." The other officer hadn't seemed close enough to be part of the conversation. But clearly he was listening.

Dinah walked up. "Do you fellows have any more questions about the investigation?"

They shook their heads.

"I'll contact you later if we need anything else, Ms. Smoak," the first detective said.

Felicity nodded and watched them walk away. She didn't look at Dinah, but whispered just loudly enough for Dinah to hear. "Have they found anything?"

"There's a lot of ash and water," Dinah said. "But I went through your desk while they were looking the other way." She handed something to Felicity. "Hold it with your sleeves and take a whiff." 

It was a plastic evidence bag, slightly open. Felicity lifted it to her nose. "Ugh," she said. "What _is_ that?"

"Lighter fluid, I think," Dinah said. "You don't barbecue much?"

"No," Felicity said. "I'm not much of a cook." Also, Oliver was obsessive about building fires with skill and patience and no lighter fluid ever, but she didn't need to tell Dinah that.

"I need that back," Dinah said. "It's evidence. But there were a whole bunch of these, spread around in different parts of your office." She looked thoughtful. "A lot of them didn't even burn." 

 _Interesting_ , Felicity thought. But she didn't say that out loud. Instead, she asked another question. "Why didn't they burn?" 

"They were tucked in strange places," Dinah said. "This one was in the back of a desk drawer. Not much air flow in there."

 _That's new and different_ , Felicity thought. _Not the usual MO for our bomber_. 

"But I think there might have been some out in the open, too," Dinah said. "The fire department's inspectors will have more to say about that."

Felicity nodded. "They should have burned easily, if they got started," she said. "I mean, that's the point of lighter fluid. That's how the fire got so big, isn't it?"

Dinah shrugged agreement.

"But it still would need to be ignited," Felicity continued. "Any idea what started the fire?"

"You mean, other than a person who would send a fake video of you to Detective Malone?" Dinah asked.

"Was someone else there?" Felicity asked. She looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear. "Besides Billy and Oliver."

"I was going ask you that," Dinah said. "Don't you have security cameras?"

"They weren't working," Felicity said.

"Huh," Dinah replied.

"Yeah," Felicity agreed. "So were there any other signs?"

"The only footprints I saw belonged to Malone and Oliver," Dinah said. "Oliver's weren't obvious, and I made sure to spoil any that might be noticed."

"Good thinking," Felicity said.

Dinah glanced around. "The press is here," she said. "You'll need to say something."

"I know," Felicity said. She hoped Oliver would get back soon– in his mayor clothes this time. 

*

There was a crowd around the Smoak Technologies factory when Oliver arrived – in his car, wearing his jacket and tie. He looked for the police chief, or the fire chief, or anyone who might give him the official information about the situation before he went to the press. 

"Mr. Queen!" It was Susan Williams. The press, it seemed, had already come to him.

Oliver plastered the usual smile onto his face. "Ms. Williams," he said. "I'm afraid if you want a scoop, you'll need to talk to someone else. I haven't been briefed on the situation yet." 

"The short version is that a police officer died in there," Susan said. "And before you go in front of the cameras, you should fix _this_." She reached out and wiped something from his temple.

"Thank you," Oliver said, wishing he had spent a few moments in front of a mirror after wiping the ash and greasepaint from his face.

"Always look good for the camera," she said, with a knowing smile. 

"Oliver!" a voice called.

He turned to see who it was.

"Sorry to interrupt your moment," Adrian Chase said, "but we need you. Chief Smith has an update. And you should talk to him _before_ talking to the press." He gave Susan his most charming smile. "No matter how attractive the press is, in this case."

"Excuse me," Oliver said to Susan. "I need to go."

"I'll be waiting to hear your statement," she said. Then, to Adrian: "You _will_ be talking to the press, won't you?"

"In due time, Ms. Williams," Adrian said. "You'll get your scoop soon enough."

*

"Oh. My. God," Curtis said, rushing up to Felicity. "What happened?"

The press pushed in closer, holding out microphones and snapping pictures.

"There was a fire in the factory," Felicity said. "It started in my office."

"How...? But we've got intrusion detection and fire alarms and sprinklers...?" Curtis waved his hands at the building.

"The fire alarms and sprinklers kept the rest of the building from going up," Felicity said. "And we don't know how the fire started." She turned slightly towards the press. "Smoak Technologies will do our best to cooperate with the police investigation," she said clearly. "And we deeply regret the death of Detective William Malone. Our sincerest condolences to his family." She took a breath. This part was going to be hard. And she was going to have to do it a lot, she suspected. "Detective Malone was a good man, and a good detective. His death is a great loss to the city."

Curtis started to say something, but Felicity shut him up with a look.

There was a loud cough from the other side of the gaggle of reporters. "The police department has a statement to make." Oliver's public speaking voice was clear and well-practiced, and Felicity had never been happier to hear it than at that moment.

The press all turned their mics toward Oliver.

Felicity tried to listen to what the police chief said. She really did. It was important to know; she needed to make sure her story matched his. But now that the attention was off of her, she just wanted to disappear and cry for seventy-eight hours straight.

Oliver said a few things, mostly expressing condolences and promising to do anything in his power to make sure that Billy didn't die in vain. 

Then the police chief took questions. Was there evidence of foul play, and why was Detective Malone in the building, and things like that. Susan Williams asked about connections to earlier bombings, which the police chief deflected. But the last question, from a reporter from out of town, brought Felicity up short. 

_"Is there any truth to the rumor that someone saw the Green Arrow leaving the scene?"_

*

"I want to know the answer to that last question," Rene said. Most of Team Arrow – except for Dinah, who stayed with the police – had gathered in the bunker after the crowd had finally dispersed. "Especially since that window in the back was broken... and most of the glass was _inside_."

Oliver just shrugged.

John gave Oliver a skeptical look. "I've seen you break a lot of windows, man," he said. "That was an Oliver-Queen-sized hole if I've ever seen one." 

"Fine." Felicity stood from where she had been sitting in front of her computer. "Oliver was in the building. I was on comms with him. Ok?" 

Rene backed up, hands in the air, but Curtis didn't read the situation well enough to get out of her way.

"You didn't tell any of us?" he asked. "Does this seem weird to anyone else?"

Oliver stepped forward, not sure if he was defending Felicity or protecting the rest of the team from her. "Dinah called me. And Felicity."

Felicity pushed her way around him. "It's my story, Oliver," she said. "Someone sent Billy Malone a text. From my phone number. With a video, asking for help."

The rest of the group stared.

"Whoa," said Curtis. "What, does he have a jealous ex-girlfriend who doesn't want him to date you?"

"I think you've got the wrong verb tense, hoss," Rene said. "HAD a jealous ex-girlfriend."

Felicity just shook her head at them, grabbed her jacket, and headed towards the elevator.

Curtis tried to follow her, but John blocked his way. "Let her go," he said. "It's not the time."

Oliver sighed as the elevator doors closed behind her. "We probably should have contacted you," he said. "All of you. But I thought we had it handled." 

"What happened in there?" John asked. "Did you see anyone?"

Curtis was already typing on Felicity's computer. "That's weird," he said. "The cameras don't show anything. Not even the fire."

"The cameras were down," Oliver said.

John gave him a questioning look.

"We didn't know they were down until I was already in there," Oliver said. "And by that time, it seemed more important to try to get Detective Malone out of the building than to contact the rest of you."

"Get him out?" John asked. "You were in there when he...?"

"I saw the fire start," Oliver said. "The office just burst into flames. But Malone was in the middle of them – I couldn't get to him."

"How did it start?" John asked. "An explosion?"

Oliver nodded, too tired to consider just how many pieces John might be putting together.

"Was there a tripwire, or a timer, or anything?" Curtis asked.

"I don't know," Oliver said. "It seemed like the fire was triggered when Malone went into the office."

"Why would anyone want to hurt Malone?" Rene asked. "He's nobody."

John was watching Oliver's face. "He was drinking coffee with Felicity. A lot." He shrugged when the others stared at him. "I got a Twitter account when I got back from the army. Seemed like the only way to keep up with all of you."

"So what now?" Curtis said. "Someone killed Felicity's new boyfriend in our factory. I don't even know how to start dealing with this."

"Yeah," Rene said. "But it's worse than that. Because if that last reporter's question is any indication, there's one prime suspect."

Everyone else just frowned, not following the reasoning.

"Ok, the suspense is killing me," Curtis said. "Not literally. Bad joke. But seriously, Rene... who?"

Rene shrugged. "The Green Arrow, of course. Who else?"


	17. Guilt is Not a Superpower

Felicity stood on her balcony, afghan around her shoulders, watching the city. Her city, as much as Oliver's. Or Billy Malone's.

A wisp of smoke curled in the moonlight above her factory.

There was a soft thud behind her. She turned, and there was Oliver, standing up from his landing.

"Hey," he said.

Felicity just turned and stared at the city again. "It's my fault," she said. "If it weren't for me, Billy Malone would still be alive."

Oliver moved to the railing. "It's not..." 

"Oliver." Felicity looked at him. "Don't you dare say _it's not your fault_."

Oliver frowned. "But, Felicity..."

"Just don't say it." She looked back out at this city again. "I know, ok? I know that I've said that a thousand times to you, I know that you understand guilt more than anyone. But it's been, what, four hours?" She looked up at him. "How long did you spend blaming yourself after Tommy died, or Sara died, or your mother, or your _father_..."

He gave a helpless little shrug.

"I need _time_ , Oliver." She turned away. "I _know_ I barely knew Billy, it's not like he was my mother or father or best friend. I _know_ I don't have a right to be so upset. It's just..." She waved her hands in the air, not even sure what gesture she was going for. "I _am_ upset. And I'm not ready to just put that away and be the perky, bubbly Felicity that everyone wants. Not right now."

Oliver shifted his weight. Even without looking at him, even with several feet between them, she could feel him – feel the air move, or the change in temperature that always followed him. "Is there... is there anything that I _can_ do?"

Felicity turned and looked at him again. "Find the frakking creeps behind this," she said. "Find them. And put them away. Forever."

"You know I'll do that," Oliver said.

Felicity nodded. "And one more thing," she said. "We need a code. A way for me to tell you if I really need help... or if you need to ignore the message. Oliver, you need to promise me that _you_ won't do something this stupid." She looked into his eyes. "Promise me?"

Oliver hesitated, then nodded. "I promise."

*

Oliver had barely been in his office for ten minutes when Adrian Chase barged in.

"Oliver. We've got a situation." Adrian stood there, blocking the doorway.

"Come in, Adrian," Oliver sighed. "What is it this time?"

"You heard the reporter last night. The last one, the one spreading the rumor about the Green Arrow and Detective Malone's death." Adrian dropped a newspaper onto Oliver's desk.

Oliver frowned at the pile of paper, as much as at the headline. "I didn't realize there were newspapers published any more," he said. "Does anyone read this?"

"Only when the city's superhero is accused of killing a cop," Adrian said. "Oliver, this is a _disaster_."

Oliver shook his head. "There isn't anything we can do," he said. "We can't just shut down the press, Adrian."

"We can give them something else to talk about," Adrian said. "Another suspect."

"Who are you suggesting?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know," Adrian said. "But Chief Smith has people working on the evidence right now. We have to make sure that there's an arrest, and it's as big of news as this was."

* 

"Hi," Dinah said.

Felicity looked up from where she was going through the insurance claim information. Curtis was at the factory, doing a detailed check on the damage, and everyone else had been given the day off. 

"I have the morning free, after my late shift last night," Dinah said. "How are you doing?"

Felicity shrugged.

"I brought cinnamon rolls," she offered. "Rumor has it that you're allergic to nuts, so I got some from a bakery that doesn't use any." 

Felicity tried one, and brightened in spite of herself. "Thanks," she said.

"I know..." Dinah started.

"Please don't do that," Felicity said. "Please don't tell me that you know how it feels. I know your partner was killed. But this is different." 

Dinah sat on the edge of a desk and let her legs swing. "Oh?"

"He wasn't my partner. Or my boyfriend," Felicity said.

"I actually knew that," Dinah said. "I could tell from your body language. But I also know that it doesn't matter whether you were dating him or not." 

Felicity shook her head. "Dinah, it's like I killed him myself. My mother always told me that men are responsible for their own actions, but it feels like I was leading him on. Like if I had just been more clear about my feelings, then he would still be alive." She popped another piece of cinnamon roll into her mouth.

Dinah pulled her own roll out of the bag and took a bite. "Your mother's right," she said. "And Malone could have waited for backup. But he decided to act on his own." 

"But..." Felicity argued.

"But the real blame really lies on the person who set the explosion, who doused those rags with lighter fluid, and who made those fake videos. Blame them. Not yourself." 

Felicity took another bite of her cinnamon roll. "Oh, I blame them. I blame them, too."

Dinah's phone buzzed. She picked it up and looked at it. "You might have a target already," she said. "Remember those guys who claimed they wanted to destroy the Internet?" 

"Dunning and Kruger?" Felicity asked. 

"Yes. Them." Dinah read a bit more. "Their fingerprints were all over your office." 

Felicity frowned. "Weren't they arrested?" 

"They were out on bail. Nobody considered them a threat," Dinah said. "Despite saying they wanted someone to kill you." 

"Well, they _weren't_ a threat," Felicity said. "Not for lack of trying, of course. They were just too incompetent to pull anything off."

Dinah looked at her phone again. "Well, it sounds like they managed to pull something off this time. They've already confessed."

*

The press conference about the arrest of Dunning and Kruger wasn't any different from every other press conference, except that there was actually someone to blame. The police chief announced the arrest. Adrian Chase talked about the importance of being tough on crime, and his plan to prosecute the perpetrators to the best of his abilities. Oliver thanked the police department for their quick work in solving the crime, and expressed his condolences, again, over Billy Malone's death. Reporters asked questions – though nobody seemed to have figured out that Dunning and Kruger had been in custody within the past week, and had been released on bail. Even Susan Williams was still asking about the connections to other explosions, and not pointing out the problems with this particular arrest.

Chief Smith thanked the reporters, and cut off the questions. He and Adrian led the way out of the room. Oliver followed them, smiling, nodding, and shaking hands with members of the press as he left.

Susan was at the far end of the group. She smiled aggressively and raised her eyebrows at him. He nodded and started to move on, but she grabbed his hand. He stiffened slightly, but as quickly as she had grabbed him, she pulled back.

"Sorry, Mr. Mayor," she said. "This isn't the place." 

He closed his hand around the piece of paper that Susan had pressed into it, and didn't look at it until he was back in his office.

_I want to talk more about the bombings. 8 pm. McGuire's Bar._

* 

Felicity was standing outside the Diggle family's door when her phone buzzed with a text. It was Oliver. 

 _Might have another lead_ , he said. 

 _??_ Felicity replied. 

 _Susan Williams wants to talk_ , Oliver texted.

 _Good_ , Felicity responded. _Maybe she'll reveal her sources_.

 _Meeting her at a bar_. Oliver texted. _Thought you should know._ _In case social media goes crazy_.

 _You know they will_ , Felicity replied. _That's what they do. Good luck_. 

 _Thanks_ , Oliver replied. 

Sara opened the door at Felicity's first knock. "She's here!" she yelled, and dragged Felicity into the hall to her room. 

"Let her put her things down before you start playing!" Lyla called.

"It's ok," Felicity said. "There's room for my tablet on Sara's floor."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," John said. He handed her a glass of wine. "Sara's good at getting out her toys. Not so good about putting them away."

Felicity looked at the mix of Legos, books, and stuffed animals. "Looks perfectly good to me."

"Come on, Felicity!" Sara said. "The giant rabbit broke the spaceship, and the princess and her dragon need help fixing it!" 

"I'll be out soon," Felicity said, accepting the wine. "Maybe we can pretend that the living room is another planet."

"It's the boring planet," Sara said. "That's where Mommy and Daddy watch the news."

"I'll be in in the kitchen making the salad," John said. "Need anything else?" 

"I could use a trip in Sara's spaceship," Felicity said.

John nodded. "Lyla figured as much." 

Felicity smiled back at him. "We'll be out soon."

Sara handed Felicity a pile of Legos before John had even made it out of the door. It took maybe half an hour, but eventually, they had made something that looked like a pink and white Death Star the size of Felicity's head, with a stuffed unicorn riding on top of it. Sara ran out of the room, warning everyone who could hear her that she would destroy their planets with magic glitter. 

Felicity followed her out, carrying the dragon and its spaceship. Lyla stuck her head out of the kitchen, saw how full Felicity's hands were, and went back into Sara's room for the wine glass. 

"The lasagne came from that new catering place," Lyla said. "The one next to the wine store. If you want something homemade, you'll need to eat with Oliver." 

"Is Uncle Oliver coming?" Sara asked. "I like it when he makes me fly."

"Not tonight, sweetie," Lyla said. "Felicity is here tonight."

"I want Oliver and Felicity to come over together, like they used to," Sara pouted.

John looked slightly uncomfortable. Felicity fixed him with a Look; if this were Vegas, she would set the odds that John had said that exact phrase at about 1-to-5.

Lyla broke up the awkwardness. "We'll have everyone over for dinner again sometime," she said. "Even Uncle Curtis." 

Sara clapped her hands. "Uncle Curtis makes fun toys."

"And it's a good thing that you don't put them in your mouth any more," Lyla said. "Now go wash your hands. The food is almost ready."

The adults sat for a moment, enjoying the momentary silence. Felicity took a sip of her wine.

The TV was on, but the sound was off. Felicity glanced up to see Oliver's face on the screen.

"Ummm..." she said. 

Lyla clicked the sound on before Felicity could even ask.

It was a press conference – the one earlier in the day, about the fire at her factory.

Lyla shook her head as mug shots of Dunning and Kruger appeared on the screen. "Aren't those the guys that tried to break the Internet? How did you describe them?"

"Which time?" Felicity replied. "Totally incompetent? Complete idiots who couldn't find the Internet from an app on their phone?"

"You're not usually wrong," John said from where he stood behind the couch.

They all stopped talking as the segment showed the arrest of Dunning, complete with him yelling some incomprehensible conspiracy theories at the reporters. 

"I don't think I was wrong," Felicity said. "I could imagine them soaking a bunch of rags with lighter fluid, sneaking into the factory, and leaving them in my office... but not actually realizing they had to light a fire. It could have even happened days ago. I never work there – who knows how long those rags were there." 

"Not too long," Lyla said. "Lighter fluid evaporates quickly."

John and Felicity stared at her in surprise.

"I've lit a barbecue, or a hundred, in my day," Lyla said. "I was in charge of grilling on the Fourth-of-July when I was a kid."

"So you think the rags were set on the day of the fire?" John asked.

"Probably," Lyla answered. "But Felicity is still right. Dunning and Kruger could have left the rags there after they were released on bail, and someone else could have started the fire." She gave Felicity a careful look. "But I don't know who."

Felicity sighed. "I don't know, either." She didn't mention the faked videos or the missing security camera footage. Maybe, if Dunning and Kruger hadn't been the kind of idiots who thought that lighter fluid could destroy a building, Billy would still be alive. But they weren't the bombers. Felicity was sure of that.

* 

The bar was dimly lit, with a pool table at one end and booths at the other. There was an old jukebox, playing something loud. Peanut shells covered the floor. Oliver's first thought was that Felicity would go into anaphylaxis if she even set foot in the room. His second was that he should have changed out of his suit jacket before meeting Susan.

Susan finished her pool game, gave a deliberately flirtaceous look to the man she had beaten, and joined Oliver in a corner booth. 

"I wasn't sure if you would come," she said, slipping into the seat next to him. Not across from him, as Oliver had expected. 

"I was curious," he replied, as neutrally as possible.

Susan leaned towards him. "You need a better act," she said. "You look like you're about to be interviewed." 

Oliver eyed her carefully. "I'm not?" he asked. "Because last time we met, you didn't want to share any information unless you got some kind of a scoop." 

"Circumstances change," Susan said softly, then smiled up at the waiter. "Sauvignon blanc," she said, then looked at Oliver. "What would you like?"

Oliver gave the waiter his most political smile. "Scotch," he said.

The waiter nodded and walked away.

Oliver gave Susan a careful look. "What do you mean, _circumstances change_?"

"I don't have a source to protect any more," Susan said. "He died in the fire at Smoak Technologies."

Oliver sucked in a breath. "Billy Malone was sharing information about police investigations with you?"

Susan looked at the napkin in front of her. "I've known Billy Malone for years," she said. "Since I was a journalism student and he was in the police academy. He let me interview him for a class assignment. So whenever he was suspicious of things in the police department – whenever he thought that justice was not being served – he would come to me."

The waiter came by with their drinks. "I'll buy this round," Susan said, loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear. "The next one is on you." 

"Thank you, Ms. Williams," Oliver said.

"Call me Susan, please," she said. Then, beneath her breath: "It's the best way to avoid being noticed." 

Oliver glanced around. 

"There are two off-duty officers by the bar," Susan said. "Both of them are known to take bribes. The chief knows."

Oliver nodded. "And you're working on a story about that?"

Susan shook her head. "I was working on a story about the women who quit the police force. What made them want to be cops. Why they left." She took a sip of her wine. "Billy was one of the few people who were willing to go on the record. My boss wasn't interested in the story unless there were names attached – preferrably scandalous names - so I had to let it go."

Oliver was having trouble following the connections. "That's not the story that I expected."

"No," Susan said. "It never is. But Billy had also noticed that the department wasn't investigating the various explosions in town. That seemed like a more marketable story. It didn't go anywhere, either."

"And the corruption?" Oliver asked.

"I was still tracking it," Susan said. "It needs a lot more investigation. Which is why I came to you, Oliver." She paused. "Can I call you _Oliver_?"

Oliver shrugged. "If you want. But I'm not sure what I can do." He glanced around. "I don't have direct experience with the police force. I'm just the mayor. If there's evidence, I could probably start some kind of commission to study the corruption, maybe put the department under civilian oversight. But this isn't much to go on."

Susan looked at him carefully. "I'm not asking you as the mayor," she said. "I'm asking you as the Green Arrow."


	18. Investigative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: reference to sexual harassment, involving both college and work environments.

"I'm not asking you as the mayor," Susan said. "I'm asking you as the Green Arrow." 

Oliver blinked. "Ummm." 

Susan glanced around. "We should have this conversation somewhere else," she said, then gave him a sly look. "Would you like to come back to my apartment, Mr. Queen?" She dropped some cash on the table and stood to go.

* 

Susan dropped the charade as soon as the apartment door closed behind them. She crossed her arms and gave him a hard look.

"So," she said. "Will the Green Arrow help the city get rid of police corruption? Or is the mayor getting kickbacks, too?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Or does the old playboy Oliver Queen enjoy the atmosphere as much as the police chief seems to?"

Oliver held up his hands. "Can we just go back to the part where you think I'm the Green Arrow?" he asked.

"Everyone _knows_ you're the Green Arrow, Oliver." Susan rolled her eyes. "Well, the press does. And so does anyone else who has been paying attention."

"Really?" Oliver kept his defensive posture. "I mean, I was accused of being the Arrow a few years ago..."

"Yes," Susan said. "And you got out of it because people liked you, Oliver. Or maybe because you're a white man from a wealthy family. But nobody actually believed the story." 

Oliver tried to look innocent. 

Susan walked across the kitchen and poured a glass of water. "A short, clean-shaven kid was arrested for being the Arrow, and then died – or disappeared – in prison. Oliver Queen left town for five months. And then the next October, suddenly Oliver Queen was back in town. And within a day or two, a new vigilante appeared. A guy who called himself the _Green_ Arrow. A guy with the same scruffy beard and attractive jawline as the original Arrow. Oh, and the Green Arrow and Oliver Queen always trim their beards at the same time." Susan rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Oliver. How stupid do you think the people are?"

"Well, I mean..." Oliver stammered.

"Do you need some water? I could use some, to wash the bar taste out of my mouth." She lifted the glass toward him.

Oliver shook his head. "No, thanks."

"So, are you going to keep denying this? Or can we move on and discuss how the Green Arrow can really help this city?" She took a sip of her water and watched his expression. 

"Fine," Oliver said. "Could we start with the explosion investigation? You said – or implied – that Billy Malone gave you information about it."

"All of the explosions have left similar residue," she started.

"I know that," Oliver said.

"They go back months," Susan said. "Some medical offices, first. Then that other office building, before Smoak Technologies."

"There was a truck that was bombed, too," Oliver said.

"Yes," Susan agreed. "A truck full of IUDs. It had similar residue, too. Until the last two bombings I thought that it was the work of an anti-choice group – one of the doctors performed abortions."

"Two of the offices also had doctors who performed vasectomies," Oliver said. "Also, someone tampered with birth control pills."

That brought Susan up short. "Billy never mentioned those."

"That information never made it past the police tip line," Oliver said.

"So you're thinking along the same lines as me?" Susan asked. "This is some kind of right-wing anti-birth-control activist?" She frowned. "But the last couple bombings don't fit that pattern. One general office building – no medical anything, not even lawyers or lobbyists for Planned Parenthood. And Smoak Technologies does some kind of energy thing." 

"Batteries," Oliver said. "Batteries for electric cars, and for storing solar power."

"Well, it's possible that the group was targeting Billy Malone, in the end. The last time I talked to him, he mentioned Felicity Smoak. He was quite enamored with her." She looked at her glass. "It sounds like you already know everything that I do," she said.

Oliver nodded. Another lead, going nowhere.

"But you seemed surprised by the police corruption investigation," she continued.

"There honestly isn't any political corruption that would surprise me," Oliver said. "But I didn't know there were major problems in our police force."

"Follow the money," Susan suggested. "Some of the officers take bribes, like I mentioned. But there's something more than that – budget lines that go nowhere. Money that just disappears." 

Oliver frowned. "That's not very specific."

"I didn't get very far with that before Billy's death," Susan said. "He was more interested in continuing to investigate the bombings."

"I'll look into it," Oliver said. Well, he would tell Felicity about it. A nice money-following hack might be just what she needed.

* 

"Dunning and Kruger didn't do it," Felicity said as Oliver walked into the bunker. "At least, they didn't do all of it. Oh, and you were right. Social media went crazy when you went to the bar with Susan Williams."

"Hi," he said. "How are you doing?" He smelled clean, like he had showered before coming down. It was nice.

"I've been to Unicorn Princess Planet with Sara Diggle," Felicity said. "And Lyla got lasagne from a new caterer. And my favorite wine. LOTS of my favorite wine."

"Sounds like a good evening," Oliver said.

"It was," Felicity said. "And now you're here, which is good, because I can't figure out why the police thought that Dunning-and-Kruger's confession was even vaguely coherent, let alone an explanation for the fire at my factory." She couldn't quite bring herself to say _the fire that killed Billy Malone_.

"Tell me about the problems with the confession," Oliver said. "Please." 

Felicity squinted at him. "Are you serious?" she asked. "Because there's chemistry involved."

Oliver smiled at her. "Try me," he said. "I'll do my best to follow along." He didn't say _and enjoy watching you_ , but his eyes said it for him. Felicity appreciated both the look and the quiet discretion.

"They went on and on about how they always started fires with lighter fluid," Felicity said. "Apparently that's a thing that Star City Boy Scouts do."

"I was never moral enough to be a Boy Scout," Oliver confessed. 

"Well, apparently they train ineffective pyromaniacs in this city, so your ill-spent youth actually served you well," she said. "And then they – Dunning and Kruger - started talking about spontaneous combustion. One of them also argued that chemtrails can make women's clothes catch fire. Which was probably creepy wishful thinking."

"Chemtrails?" Oliver looked confused. Oh, Felicity was going to have to keep this up, because she loved that adorable confused look.

"Secret government spraying from the back of airplanes. Totally bogus. Don't worry about it." She shook her head to clear it. Ok, maybe the wine was still in her system. "The point is, those two wouldn't be able to figure out how to start a fire with a dozen boxes of matches and a gallon of gasoline. So why did the police just accept their confession?"

"Because the police are hiding something?" Oliver suggested. "Not my idea, originally. Susan Williams wants me to look into corruption on the police force."

"Ok," Felicity said. "Did she give you a starting point?"

"She pointed out a couple police officers who take bribes," Oliver said. "But she also said there was money in the police department budget that didn't go anywhere. It just... disappeared." 

Felicity cracked her knuckles. "That sounds like a job for.... OVERWATCH!" The wine had definitely not worn off yet. Oliver noticed, too, based on his concerned look. "I mean, yes, I can work with that. I'll start a script right now." She turned back to her computer, opened a terminal window, and started typing.

Oliver leaned his arms on the back of her chair, watching.

She glanced back at him. "Does this mean anything to you?"

"Nothing," he said with a smile. "It's ok." 

She typed a few more things, then spun around. "All right, then," she said. "We need to have sex. And then cuddle for hours. If that's ok."

"It's more than ok," Oliver said. 

*

Felicity's arms shook as she pushed into the final Downward Facing Dog of her Yoga-in-the-Park class. It was part of her weekend routine, and she needed it even more right now. She had barely made it home before dawn, after finally agreeing to let Oliver give her a ride on his motorcycle, just this one time, just because she was so clearly exhausted.

But her lack of sleep meant that Oliver had a list of names that went with bank accounts into which the police department's money had been transferred. And an hour of yoga had left her calm, with exhaustion in her muscles instead of that creeping weariness that kept threatening to fill her brain.

Felicity finished the final few poses, then lay on her mat, breathing. She couldn't manage it for long, so she stood and rolled up her mat, instead. When she turned to say goodbye to her instructor, she saw Thea waving to her.

"Hi!" Thea said, pulling her into a hug. "Sorry I haven't been around. I can't believe what happened to your factory!" 

"It's ok," Felicity said. "I didn't think you'd be here today. Weren't you getting ready for a big concert last night?"

"My biggest one yet." Thea tossed her head proudly. "Sold out the hockey rink."

"Nice!" Felicity gave her a fist bump.

"Thank you," Thea said. "It was a lot of work... so much more work than a show at a club. Oh. My. God. The details. The fine print. I kind of miss the days when I was just hanging posters in bars." 

"You should hire someone," Felicity said. "Don't do it all yourself. Trust me."

"Oh, I know," Thea said. "I've got a couple job ads out today. I just wanted to see how much I could pay, but after last night, things are looking pretty fantastic."

"That's great news," Felicity said. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Not yet," Thea said. "I just woke up, and I want to walk around outside a bit." She picked up Felicity's yoga mat. "Also, talk to me about the factory. At least they caught those two guys. What's happening to your business now?"

Felicity picked up her workout bag and followed Thea to the path around the park. "There wasn't that much damage to the factory," Felicity said. "The fire was mostly in my second office. I don't even have important files saved there. But..." She still couldn't quite say Billy's name.

"Oh, yeah, that cop," Thea said. She spun and looked at Felicity. "You weren't actually dating him, were you?"

Felicity shook her head. "But that's not what's important, Thea. He _died_."

Thea gave her a skeptical look. "What was he doing in your building?" she asked. "All the news reports say that you didn't know about the fire until it started. So what was a cop – a cop who was trying to date you, don't tell me that he wasn't – what was he doing in your building?" Thea started walking again. "If you ask me, it sounds really suspicious. Was he working with those other two guys, and just got caught setting the fire?"

"Thea!" Felicity said, horrified. "No!"

"Ok, fine," Thea said. She raised her hands in a gesture that was supposed to look like surrender, but it looked more like she was brandishing the yoga mat as a threat. "But there are holes in this story. Big, giant, gaping holes. And it isn't like you to ignore them."

"I promise I'm not ignoring them," Felicity said.

"Fine," Thea said. "But if you need any backup – more than my idiot brother gives you – just ask me. Ok?"

"Thank you," Felicity said. She glanced away from the path for a second, and almost ran into Thea, who had come to a sudden stop.

Thea was staring across the park, towards some of the benches. "What. The. Hell," she said. "Speaking of my idiot brother..."

Felicity followed her gaze. Oliver was sitting on one of the benches, talking to someone, head leaning in close. 

"Is that Susan Williams?" Thea said. "I hate that bitch." 

* 

Susan was already sitting on a park bench when Oliver arrived. Just as she had promised, when he texted her and asked to meet.

She leaned in close when he sat beside her. "You work quickly," she said. "I'm impressed." She put one of her hands on his arm.

Oliver froze at the intimacy of the gesture.

Susan raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know I've had a reputation in the past," Oliver said. "But I'm not interested."

"Ah," Susan said. "I guess I know your secret. Maybe I should tell you mine." 

Oliver raised an eyebrow back at her. 

"I need to talk to people for my job," Susan said. "People who tell me things. Sometimes in public, like at your press conferences. But the important stuff, the stories that need to be told – I only hear them from individuals. One at a time." 

Oliver just listened.

"Women, I can meet with and never be noticed," Susan said. "You know how women always go to the restroom together? We're basically invisible. When I was starting out – writing, first, rather than broadcasting – I talked to a lot of women. But my boss told me that I needed more sources for my stories. _Credible_ sources." She shook her head. "He meant _male_ sources. But getting men to talk to me was harder."

"I thought you interviewed Billy Malone, back when you were in college?" Oliver asked.

"Billy was an exception," Susan said. "Most men told me that they couldn't meet with me alone – not at a restaurant, not in their office – because people would talk." She shook her head. "The weird thing was, I was sleeping with a married man at the time. Nobody said a word about _that_. But a professional meeting? That was potentially scandalous." 

Oliver nodded slowly.

"So I decided to just pretend that I was seeing all my male sources. Seeing them romantically. I didn't have a reputation to ruin by that point in my life, anyway, and nobody noticed me when I appeared to be _with_ a man. It got a lot easier to get stories after that."

"So you pretend to be sleeping with your sources?"

"Or dating them. Or just flirting with them. Whatever's comfortable for them." Susan shrugged. "But I find that people don't notice much else when they can tell a story about sex." She eyed him carefully. "Don't bring up journalistic ethics." 

Oliver tried to look innocent, because he had been wondering.

"My journalism professor only recommended women for jobs if they slept with him. The ombudsman at my first job told me that he would get me fired if I didn't let him touch my breasts." Susan looked away. "At least everyone _I've_ slept with was willing and enthusiastic."

Oliver sat silently, thinking.

"So do whatever is comfortable," Susan said. "But you've been single for months, and with your past reputation... people will notice you talking to me if you don't at least pretend."

Oliver nodded and leaned towards Susan's head. "I have names," he said. "Names of people who received that missing money from the police budget."

"Already?" Susan slipped closer, lowering her voice even more. "I'm surprised it was that easy." 

"It wasn't easy," Oliver replied. Felicity had dug through several different levels of money-laundering, making comments about how there was no way that the police department had actually bought that many paperclips.

"But you're sure about them?" Susan said.

"Absolutely certain." And then he whispered a list of names into Susan's ear.

"Huh," Susan said. "I know some of those names. One of them used to work in the police department – an office assistant. I tried to talk to her about why she left, but she cancelled the interview. And the others..." She looked slowly at Oliver. "I don't know four of them, but the last two women... they're dead."


	19. Unpleasant Work Environments

Felicity felt more like herself on Monday, after sleeping for about twelve hours Saturday night. Oliver had convinced her that she could just go home to her bed, that he could sneak in through the balcony and stay there until she fell asleep, that he would leave before dawn and nobody would notice.

When she woke up, he was gone, but there were waffles on the table. With strawberries. And whipped cream. And chocolate syrup.

That man was so ridiculous. She shook her head at the thought of him, and ate the waffles.

So by Monday, Felicity was ready to go back to the office and face Curtis, and Alena, and all the financial stress of dealing with a business that needed to somehow keep functioning after a man died in its factory. And she wasn't going to think about that last part. Nope.

So she checked her Twitter mentions.

On the up side, there weren't nearly as many people talking about her.

On the down side... they were all talking about Oliver. Wow. She thought _she_ had gotten hate. Susan was a lightning rod. Apparently there were rumors about her going back ten years, at least. It seemed like everyone on the Internet blamed her for a boyfriend who turned bad, or a musician who was secretly abusive, or a politician embedded in scandals.

It didn't get better when the others arrived.

"NO." Curtis shouted at his tablet. "No, no, no, no, no. Oliver, I can't believe you are such an IDIOT."

Alena looked up. "Who's Oliver?"

"Oliver Queen, the most pathetic excuse for poorly timed libido in the entire world," Curtis said. "Well, except for the years that he was with Felicity."

Alena's eyes widened until they seemed to fill the entire space behind her glasses. "THAT Oliver? Wait... Mayor Queen? Was with Felicity?"

Curtis nodded. "They were the cutest couple the world has ever seen. They could warm the hearts of super-villains... I mean, if super-villains knew they existed. Or had hearts."

"Oh, wow!" Alena said. "Were you, like, the power couple of Star City?"

"They were exactly that," Curtis said.

"What happened to them?" Alena asked.

Felicity finally broke in. "THAT is not a topic for the office," she said. "We need to figure out whether we can sell the software without the batteries. It will take a while for the insurance company to process our claims, and I don't want to have to lay anyone off in the meantime."

She sat at her computer and began typing. The numbers didn't actually mean anything – she had already worked out the beginnings of a budget on Friday – but it gave her an excuse to avoid looking at Alena and Curtis. But even without turning around, Felicity knew that they were huddled over Curtis's phone, squeeing quietly over old pictures of her with Oliver, and grumbling about other things.

"Wait, he's with HER???" Alena asked. She covered her mouth with her hands. "She's the bitchiest reporter EVER," she whispered loudly.

"I KNOW," Curtis whispered back.

"We should..." Alena looked up to see Felicity glaring at her. "I mean, we should look into the market for our software."

"Exactly," Felicity growled.

Curtis looked strangely at her for a moment before Felicity realized that she had been channeling her Inner Green Arrow. 

*

The apartment window didn't latch closed all the way, so Oliver decided to just pull it open rather than breaking the glass.

Of course, that meant that the young woman didn't hear him over the sound of the TV until he walked into her living room and raised his bow. He shot a smoke-bomb arrow – a little one, not too much smoke – to catch her attention.

"Tonya James..." he started.

"Shhh!" she said. "I've got a kid sleeping in the other room."

"Tonya James," Oliver whispered. The voice modulator wasn't nearly as effective when he whispered. "Someone in the police department has been paying you to stay silent. What secret do they want you to keep?"

Tonya eyed him carefully. "You should probably threaten to kill me," she said. "Otherwise, it won't be worth me telling you." 

Oliver raised his bow. "Someone paid for your silence!" he growled. "Who was it??"

"I don't know," Tonya said.

"What secret do they want you keep?" He was repeating his questions. Felicity would tease him about that later.

"It wasn't much," she said. "A couple guys groped me on my first day at work. I talked to some other girls, and they all had similar stories, so we all filed complaints with HR. But HR told me that they couldn't do anything, and maybe I should just look for another job. I wasn't a good fit there. I was _difficult_."

"Did the police department offer you money to keep quiet?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, no. I had plans to meet with a lady reporter – she was sniffing around all the girls in the police department – when I got a letter in the mail. A real, paper letter. With cash in it. And an offer to transfer money into my bank account, if I would just go away and stop bothering people." She shrugged. "I'm a single mom. The money was good. Better than the pay for _that_ job, especially given how much daycare costs. So I took it."

"Where is the letter?" Oliver asked.

"I burned it," she said. "There's no more evidence of it. And also..." She shook her head at him. "If you tell anyone about me, I'll tell them that the mayor visited me in the middle of the night." 

"Ummm..." Oliver said.

"Don't be stupid, Mr. Mayor. It's been obvious for years. So just go away and leave me alone, and I won't tell the FBI that you were here threatening me." She glanced at the smoke-bomb arrow in the corner. "Take that with you, too."

Oliver quietly took his arrow and zip-lined away into the night.

* 

"I've been working on a list of associates for the people who got secretly paid by the SCPD," Felicity said.

Oliver was on the other side of the room, doing an inventory on his arrows. After Tonya James had told him to pick up his arrow, he was paranoid about running short.

"I can't find much about the two women who died," she continued. "They didn't seem to have family in town. Or friends, really. No foul play in their deaths, though. One was in a car accident – well, bicycle accident, really. A car hit her while it was making a turn. And the other one had an unknown bee allergy – went for a walk in a park, and just collapsed."

Oliver frowned. "What about the others?"

"Pretty normal people," Felicity said. "A couple of them moved out of state. And the last two never worked for the police, so they can't be Tonya's friends. Though one works at an all-night doughnut shop. So maybe that's a connection." 

"Maybe," Oliver said.

"So are you going to go after them?" Felicity asked. "Or everyone they know on Facebook?"

"Actually," Oliver said, "I was going to give some of the names to Susan to investigate."

"Might be better than threatening to put arrows into a bunch of single moms," Felicity said. "Especially if people really do know that you're the Green Arrow."

"I'm hoping that's just a coincidence," Oliver said. "Tonya James was in contact with Susan before she took the payout. Maybe they talked."

"Hopefully Susan doesn't spread rumors about you," Felicity said. "I can't tell from TV. Is she good at keeping secrets, or just collecting them until she can cash them in?"

"I don't know," Oliver admitted. "But there seems to be something to her police corruption story."

"And it's consistent with her other story, about women leaving the police department," Felicity added, then paused. "You know, we've got someone on the team who works there. Maybe Dinah has seen something."

"She doesn't seem to like the chief," Oliver agreed.

"I think I should ask her," Felicity said. "If she's got stories, they might be hard to tell. At least to a guy."

Oliver nodded. 

"These pieces all fit together, at least," Felicity said. "But that's an awful lot of hush money over sexual harassment. Most places just ignore it, find another reason to let the women go, and move on."

"Maybe there's more to the story," Oliver said. 

"Maybe," Felicity agreed.


	20. Observations and Evidence

It's harder to talk about sexual harassment than it seems. At least, when you think someone has experienced it.

Dinah stopped by with cinnamon rolls again on Tuesday morning. That was Felicity's opening.

"Hi, Dinah!" Felicity said brightly. "How's work?"

"It's the police department. I spent yesterday filing paperwork. And that's probably good, considering what other things could happen." Dinah gave Felicity a cautious look. "How are you doing?"

"Better," Felicity said. "Much better. I've got a great work environment here, with Alena and Curtis. You know?"

Dinah looked skeptically at her. "Are you sure you're ok?" 

"Yes, I'm sure." Felicity waited, then blurted out: "What do you know about sexual harassment in the police department?"

Dinah raised her eyebrows. "That is not where I thought this was going," she said.

"I mean, you've talked about toxic masculinity, so I thought..." Felicity said.

"Is this about Malone?" Dinah asked. "And the crap that the chief was giving him?"

"Sure," Felicity said. "Tell me about that." 

Dinah sighed. "The chief is an ass," she said. "But it was pretty typical guy stuff. I didn't hear much of it. They've learned to shut up when I walk into a room."

"They've never commented about you?" Felicity asked.

"Oh, sure. The usual, especially when I'm going undercover. Wolf whistles, or _I didn't know you had legs_ , or _nice fishnets_ , or things like that." Dinah smirked. "They know to look but not touch, though."

"What about other women?" Felicity asked. "Have they talked about being harassed?"

"Not really," Dinah shrugged. "Not to me. But I'm new. And I'm a lieutenant. There aren't any other women at my level." She frowned at Felicity. "What does this have to do with Malone?" 

"He just talked about it to me," Felicity lied. "That's all."

Dinah eyed Felicity. "Sounds like he was awfully perceptive," she said. "More than I ever gave him credit for."

*

Oliver heard voices outside his office door. He opened it, to see Adrian Chase and Susan Williams. Talking? Maybe.

"Didn't know you had an interview planned, Oliver," Adrian said. "I thought we had taken care of everything newsworthy."

"We have, Adrian." Oliver stood and walked around his desk. "Susan and I were about to go to dinner."

" _Susan_ , is it?" Adrian considered the name, sounding it out, thinking about it. "I didn't know you were on a first-name basis."

"Adrian, if you could excuse us..." Oliver gave him his most alpha-male, get-out-of-my-way look.

Adrian stood his ground for a moment, and then stepped aside. "If you've got a big story planned, you should interview me, too," he said to Susan. "It's important to get lots of different points of view." 

"There's no big story, Adrian," Oliver said. "Good night."

*

"So?" Felicity asked, after the others had finally left for the night.

"So I gave the list of names to Susan," he said. "She's going to try to contact them, though she needs to think about what to tell them."

"They probably talked to _someone_ about their experience," Felicity said. "Though they might not want to talk to a reporter about it."

"Hopefully they will," Oliver said. "How is everything else?"

"The insurance paperwork is filed. I've got a couple companies who are interested in the software, whether or not we've got batteries to go with it. And I think Curtis and Alena may be planning some kind of trick to get you and me back together. Every time I look up, they're whispering about something." Felicity sighed and rolled her shoulders.

Oliver took the hint and started rubbing them. "I've got other news that you might be interested in," he said. "Apparently your friends Dunning and Kruger are going to represent themselves in their trial. They refused to accept a defense lawyer."

Felicity leaned into the massage. "I wish I could be entertained by watching them. But I just can't. It reminds me that we – and the police – missed something important." She looked up at him. "Do you think Susan could interview anyone about their story? Just to get more information than what we've got?"

Oliver looked thoughtful. "I don't think she's got any traction with the police. Certainly not after Billy died."

"Someone else must have spoken to them. Maybe they don't have a lawyer of their own, but there's got to be someone. How about a prosecuting attorney? Do they ever talk to the defendants? Is that allowed?" Felicity asked. 

Oliver shrugged. "I'm not a lawyer, and I don't follow everything that goes on in the legal side of city government," he said. "The only person I know over there is Adrian Chase. Though he's pretty hands-on. Maybe he's handling the case himself."

"Do you think he would talk to Susan?" Felicity asked.

"Definitely," Oliver said. "He might not say anything useful, though. He's already campaigning for re-election, at least in his mind."

"It wouldn't hurt to suggest it," Felicity said.

Oliver continued rubbing her shoulders in silence, working out that knot that always developed when she used her mouse too much. When he was done, Felicity leaned back, rolled her shoulders again, and sighed.

"Thank you," she said. "My hero."

Oliver smiled. "I try."

"Actually, speaking of that..." Felicity spun around in her chair. "I decided on a code."

"A code?" Oliver frowned.

"A code. In case I'm kidnapped, or someone tells you I'm kidnapped, or you just get the urge to be all heroic and rescue me. One thing for _yes, this is me, but I'm ok_ , and another for _this is me but it's a trap,_ and a different one for _this is me and I'd like to be rescued please_. Though I might only use the last one if my mother and Curtis team up on me." Felicity handed his phone to him. "Let's practice."

*

Susan came by during lunch on Wednesday.

They ate at a place known for paparazzi. It was Susan's idea; it went along with her experience in hiding in plain sight. So they ate soup and salad, and drank water, and shared updates.

"I talked to a friend of one of the women on your list – Alicia Westbrook - this morning," Susan said. "Her friend wasn't hard to find. All of Westbrook's friends seem to have open Facebook profiles. So I told her friend that I wanted to do a human-interest story about training agility dogs." 

"Agility dogs?" Oliver asked.

Susan nodded. "You know, dogs that do obstacle course races. Westbrook raises dogs. Her friends list is full of dog people – they train dogs, breed dogs, show dogs, even make custom leashes and organic dog biscuits. It wasn't too hard to convince her friend that I was doing a local story tied in with the Westminster Dog Show." 

"And...?" Oliver asked.

"Westbrook raises German Shepherds," Susan said. "Lots of them become police dogs."

"Drug-sniffing?" Oliver asked. 

"All kinds of things. And apparently, agility training is perfect cross-training for a dog that you want to be loyal and obedient." Susan took a sip of her water. "Believe me, after this morning I could talk to you for an hour about how agility makes all dogs more wonderful."

"Did Westbrook train dogs for the SCPD?" Oliver asked.

"She used to," Susan said. "Now she tries to place dogs with the FBI and TSA. And her friend didn't know when or why Westbrook stopped her work with the SCPD." She took a bite of her salad. "It turns out that people who are into agility are nearly as single-minded as the dogs are."

Oliver nodded. "Still, that's good info. I can follow up on that."

Susan raised her eyebrows.

"Not as _him_ ," Oliver said.

"Good," Susan said. "Dogs remember scents, you know."

"So what's next?" Oliver asked.

"I'm meeting with an ex-boyfriend of our doughnut-seller early this afternoon," Susan said. "He is apparently very proud of his collection of antique cameras. Though his Facebook page shows a couple Polaroid cameras from the 80s. His definition of _antique_ might be _uses film_."

"Maybe he has photos of his old girlfriend or something," Oliver suggested.

"I'll look at everything," she said. "Patiently. There will probably be a lot of blurry vacation photos." She sighed. "I wish we had more information about the two women who died. I feel like that must be an important part of the story. But dead people are hard to interview." 

"I can work on that," Oliver said.

Susan gave him an amused sidelong look. "I don't think death threats will be very effective on them," she said.

"I have other approaches," Oliver grumbled. Well, Felicity had other approaches, but he wasn't about to spill all of his secrets – or Felicity's secrets - to Susan. Maybe changing the subject would be a good idea. "Are you interested in following up on any other stories?"

Susan looked interested. "Got a tip for me, Mr. Mayor?"

"Not a good one," Oliver said. "You were looking into the explosions. The two guys who were arrested for killing Billy Malone are going on trial soon. Representing themselves."

"Seriously?" Susan asked. "Who's stupid enough to do that?"

"A couple guys who don't realize that you need a spark to set lighter fluid on fire, apparently," Oliver said.

"That could be an interesting story," Susan mused. "Got any leads? Beyond the defendants – I already saw them interviewed. They might be entertaining on YouTube, but they aren't good subjects for the evening news." 

"Not any great leads," Oliver said. "But I was thinking that you could talk to Adrian Chase."

Susan made a face. "Ok. I know he's willing. But that man gives me the creeps."

*

 _SW got the interview with AC_ , Oliver texted. _What's your news?_

 _I sent Alena and Curtis away to buy more coffee_ , Felicity replied. _Finally got a free moment in the bunker. Going to dig for some more info now._

 _Great_ , Oliver replied. _See you after dinner_.

Felicity sat down in the bunker and started typing. Her first search hadn't turned up much about the dead women, but back then, she had been trying to find people who had known them. She hadn't dug through government records, financial data, or private social media accounts. Maybe that had been a mistake. But their records wouldn't have changed, so maybe it was ok wait to do this kind of detective-work...

Ouch. Felicity re-focused, and continued her search.

The women might not have known each other. Both had been rookie cops, who moved to Star City from out of town, but they started at different times. Each one had gotten stellar evaluations for her first month, but then things had worsened. One mostly had little things on her record – tardiness, missed meetings. There was a request to switch partners, which was denied. She voluntarily left the force, several months before she received her first payout.

The second one had a different set of criticisms. Low ratings for attitude and teamwork. Then questions about her judgment – general, without reference to any specific incident. And finally, concerns about her effectiveness under stress. After that last one, her employment was terminated.

She received her first payout two weeks after she was fired. And the date of the money transfer – it was two days before the other woman started being paid.

It wasn't looking good for the SCPD, Felicity thought, as she started searching for any kind of private social media account. Neither woman had posted much on Facebook since leaving the police academy. Their Instagram accounts hadn't been used much, either, except for the typical photos of the Star City skyline and apartments full of unpacked boxes. But the accounts that allowed a little more anonymity... they were more revealing. Each woman complained about comments she received, at first. Then there was some unwanted touching. Men saying _can't you take a joke?_ every time the women spoke up about the situation. And then they started getting the negative evaluations. The first woman responded mostly with sadness, questioning her competence and her dedication to her job, until she decided to go back to college and get a Masters in Social Work instead. But the second woman was angry. She wasn't being treated fairly, she posted. Her evaluations were simply wrong. Retaliatory. She was going to do something about it.

Then she was fired.

Her last post was on the day after she received her first payout. Something about having the evidence that she needed.

Felicity frowned. Evidence for what? The police obviously weren't going to investigate themselves. Oliver hadn't heard anything about this. Susan had known that the woman was dead, but nothing else about her. Who else would be interested in evidence?

Oh. No.

Felicity hacked into another supposedly secure computer system and pulled up an electronic appointment calendar. Yes, there was the woman's name. And a few days later, there was the other woman.

Filled with dread, Felicity started a facial recognition search of the city's traffic cameras.

Oh, frak. She was right. 

She picked up her phone and dialed Oliver.

"Hey," he said. "What's up? Usually you text me during the day."

"It's an emergency," she said. "Is Susan still there with Adrian Chase?"

"No," Oliver said. "I think they went to a cafe, or an early dinner, or something. That's the way Susan likes to do her interviews."

"Call her," Felicity said. "Call her now."

"What is it?" Oliver's voice was tense.

"The two women who died..." Felicity said. "They were both in the police force, and both left because of harassment, as far as I can tell. And then they each met with Adrian Chase. Separately. I saw their pictures with him, on old traffic camera footage." Felicity sucked in a breath. "Each of them died, less than twenty-four hours later."


	21. Kidnapped

Oliver cancelled his last meeting of the day - giving his assistant his best ' _I think I might have food poisoning'_ face – and headed for the bunker. Well, the bunker by way of his apartment; even if everyone knew he was the Green Arrow, he didn't want anyone to suspect Felicity's company of illegal activities. So the mayor's car went to Oliver's apartment, and Oliver's motorcycle headed for the bunker.

"Maybe you should wear comms to work," Felicity fretted.

"It's fine with you on speaker," Oliver said, as he reminded himself to drive patiently and stop at all the red lights. "I never went back to using a driver, even after the city budget improved." He braked for another light. "Talk to me, Felicity."

"You know it's still hot when you say that, don't you?" Felicity said. "I've been searching traffic cameras for images of Susan and Adrian Chase. The good news is that they did go to a cafe. The bad news is that they left half an hour ago, and Susan got into a car with Chase. I was able to track the car into the warehouse district, but there aren't as many cameras there."

"Can you... I mean, would you be willing to ping her cellphone?" Oliver wasn't entirely sure how it worked. All he knew was that Felicity could do it.

"I'm so glad you didn't actually finish that first sentence," Felicity replied. "And I've tried that already. Susan's cell phone seems to be off."

"Then I'll hurry." Oliver sped up. Screw the speed limit.

*

Oliver called from his apartment. Yes, Felicity tracked the GPS on his phone at all times. He probably knew about it... at least, Felicity thought he did.

"Hey," he said. "I'm changing out of my work suit, and I'll be there in a moment. Any news?"

"Nothing," Felicity said, looking at the screen. "Wait..."

"Yes?" Oliver said.

"Susan's phone just turned on again. She – or her phone – is in one of the warehouses down by the waterfront. About five blocks from my factory. I'll text you the address." 

"You're amazing," Oliver said.

"I live to impress," Felicity responded. "Now hurry."

Oliver was silent for a moment. "I just got a call from Susan," he said. "Hold on."

Felicity tapped a few more keys as she waited. First thing: search for Adrian Chase's entire life history. According to Oliver, in addition to possibly murdering two women, Adrian had also been impatient to publicly resolve the whole bombing mystery. So...

Her thoughts were interrupted by Oliver, continuing their call. "Susan says she needs my help," Oliver said. "And that she trusted that I could find her."

"And...?" Felicity asked.

"And then the call was cut off," Oliver said. "She was out of breath. I couldn't tell whether she was forced to call me, of if she tried to escape."

"Let's assume she's in trouble, AND that it might be a trap," Felicity said.

"I'll be at the bunker as soon as I can," Oliver said.

Felicity returned to her search. Where was Adrian Chase during the evening before Billy Malone died? She wrote some code that would go through all the traffic cameras in the city, in an expanding circle around her factory, and apply facial recognition to them all.

It would take a while, so she found the private comms that she had set up for working with Oliver, and put one in her ear. She put its mate in the most obvious place she could think of – clipped to the hood on his Arrow suit.

Felicity's phone buzzed as she sat down at her workstation again.

"Hi, Felicity!" It was Alena. "Curtis is on his way back to the office with the coffee. I went to the factory to check on a problem with the security cameras."

"The cameras are acting up again?" Felicity asked.

"Yes," Alena said. "I just got an alert on my phone. Didn't you get one?"

"No," Felicity replied. And then she remembered why: those alerts went to her office workstation. The one upstairs. The one that wasn't connected to the bunker network, to make it more difficult for hackers – or more likely, the FBI – to crack both systems at once. 

"Oh!" Alena said. "Well, that's fine. I'm here now. But I can't figure out the coding on the cameras."

Of course she couldn't, Felicity realized. The coding was new, changed after the explosion and fire, because Felicity wanted to make sure that her bomber wouldn't be able to interfere with the cameras again. Felicity typed a few commands, to cover her digital tracks, and looked at the camera feed.

"Oh, frak," Felicity said.

"You checked the cameras?" Alena asked.

"Yes," Felicity replied. "And you're right, they're down again."

"Of course I'm right." Alena sounded insulted. "Sorry. I'm just not used to running into code that I can't hack. Could you come down here? I mean, I know you're busy, and I should be able to handle this. It's just... I can't."

"Let me get my things, and I'll be down there as fast as I can," Felicity said. "See you in a jiffy."

*

Oliver ran up the stairs from the garage where his motorcycle was parked. He had hit every red light between his apartment and the bunker, and the trip had taken at least twice as long as it normally did.

The bunker was empty.

"Felicity?" he called. "Felicity!"

Nobody answered.

Oliver grabbed a gun and worked his way through the bunker, rounding every corner cautiously. It was empty.

But when he got to the cases containing the suits, there was a note.

_Coding emergency at the factory. I'll be back as soon as possible. My comms are in._

His earpiece was above the note, attached to his hood. Oliver grabbed it and put it in, then started pulling on his leathers. 

Oliver kept listening through his earpiece, but he heard nothing. Nothing but the sound of wind and traffic.

* 

Felicity parked her car and ran into the back door of the factory. The room that controlled the cameras was small - next to the server room, but in its own space. Felicity punched in her access code and entered the room.

"Alena?" Felicity called. "Alena?!"

She turned to the computer and typed in her password.

Suddenly, she was surrounded with narrow beams of light. They surrounded her, crossing into a network, but never touching her. Like a cage.

"Don't move." Alena stepped into view outside the door. "Cross any one of them, and you'll set off the explosives."

"Alena." Felicity said.

Someone with a sophisticated knowledge of chemistry. Someone who could hack a cell phone, and manipulate an image, and control security cameras.

Oh, frak.

"Hold still," Alena said.

A tiny flying robot buzzed between the beams of light and hovered in front of Felicity's face.

"You made a robot hummingbird?" Felicity was impressed in spite of herself.

"A hummingbot." Alena sounded pleased. Then she frowned. "My professor at MIT took off points for aesthetics when I made the prototype for a class project." 

"That doesn't make any sense," Felicity said. The tiny robot gleamed like a gem. "It's beautiful."

"He said it looked like something a fairy princess would like," Alena said. "Robots shouldn't be _pretty_. Robots should be _dangerous_."

The hummingbot buzzed around Felicity's head, then stopped by her ear.

"Don't move," Alena said. "The hummingbot can sting like a bee. Except with specially targeted allergens. This one carries a venom made from peanut oil."

Felicity froze as the tiny robot plucked the comm out of her ear.

"That's better," Alena said.

The hummingbot buzzed back through the light beams, then turned and sped away into the hall.  
  
"Where is it going?" Felicity asked.

"Not far," Alena said. "Outside somewhere. It will be back soon, after it gets rid of your toy."

Felicity watched her. Always make the villains talk, she thought. They always want to talk. "So you went to MIT?" Felicity asked. 

"Yes," Alena said. "Just like you. They still talk about you there. The perfect student." She looked down the hall, towards where the hummingbot had disappeared. "My professor for Freshman Design was the first one to mention you. By the time I got deeper into Computer Science, I decided I needed to find out more."

"When were you there?" Felicity asked. Maybe the whole alumnae-bonding thing could get her out of this...

"I started in 2012," Alena said. "I did my first web search for you in 2013." She frowned. "It was such a disappointment. You were so... boring. Just another IT girl. Boring clothes. Boring life."

Felicity remembered a half-dead Oliver bleeding out in the back seat of her Mini. Sure. Most boring year ever, 2013. For some bizarre definition of _boring_.

"If that was what the perfect student became... boring, alone... well, what hope was there for any of us?" Alena said. "But then things started to change. Your clothes, for one thing. Your hair. Your job."

"I was an executive assistant," Felicity said.

"To the hottest guy in the city!" Alena said. "He was in the news all the time. And from those photos... it was obvious that he was really into you."

Felicity shrugged. She couldn't deny that. Though Oliver was going to be in charge of making all the coffee for the rest of eternity, after putting her through that executive assistant hell. The other administrative staff had given her such a hard time for getting _special attention_ from the boss all the time.

"And then he asked you out! It was like... the prince and the IT girl!" Alena sighed. "And even when that didn't work out, you ended up dating Ray Palmer. As his vice president, too!"

"We all have our lapses in judgment," Felicity muttered. 

"And then you broke up with Ray – I call him that in my head, _Dr. Palmer_ sounds way too formal – and ran away with Oliver. The paparazzi kept posting pictures of you from Bali and Corto Maltese and the Amalfi Coast." Alena glowed. "It was like _The Little Mermaid_ and _Beauty and the Beast_ and _Cinderella_ all at once!"

"Ariel lost her voice, and Cinderella was a victim of foot-binding," Felicity grumbled.

"He asked you to marry him," Alena said. "And after you were shot, I'm sure he carried you everywhere. You got carried by THOSE arms."

A buzzing sound told Felicity that the hummingbot was back.

"You broke up," Alena continued. "But he still would rescue you."

Felicity looked at her in surprise.

"Oh, come on," Alena said. "Everyone knows Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow. Nobody else has gorgeous scruff quite like that." She rolled her eyes. "If he really wanted a new identity, he could have changed the color of his costume, at least." 

Felicity didn't try to deny it.

"But now he's with that evil witch reporter," Alena spat out.

Felicity watched the hummingbot come closer.

"That bitch needs to DIE," Alena said.

"She just might," Felicity replied.

"That's right," Alena said. "See, I watch the traffic cameras, too. I know she went off with that District Attorney. The one with the disturbing past." She shook her head at Felicity's question. "I don't know him. But I've hacked your computer. You've been searching for information about him."

"You've hacked...!" Now _that_ was unacceptable, Felicity thought.

"He'll probably kill her," Alena said. "I hope."

"Unless someone stops him," Felicity said.

"That's right," Alena said. "Oliver _could_ rescue her. But he won't."

"Why not?" Felicity asked.

"Because he'll choose to rescue _you_ instead," Alena replied. "True love will always win out. He'll come back to you in the end. But he needs a little nudge."

The hummingbot hovered in front of Felicity's face. Alena pulled out her phone.

"I've set my phone to spoof your number. When I get connected, you need to tell Oliver that you've been kidnapped. You're being held prisoner in your factory. You _need_ him... you need him to save you. And you love him."

Felicity looked at her. "And if he doesn't come?" 

"If you try to escape, you'll trigger the bombs," Alena said. "And if he isn't here in the next thirty minutes, the bombs will go off, anyways."

The hummingbot moved up and down.

"Oh, and if you don't say what I asked you to, the hummingbot will sting you," Alena said. "I have an epipen. But I'll only use it if you cooperate." Alena looked thoughtful. "Actually, maybe I should have the hummingbot sting you anyway," she said. "Then he'll see you going into anaphylactic shock. He'll be devastated – he'll come to rescue you, yelling and crying and wanting to kill everyone..."

"But either I'll die before he gets here, or you won't be able to film me very easily because you'll be using the epipen," Felicity pointed out.

"True," Alena conceded. "So you'll just have to beg to be rescued before you get stung." She pulled out her phone. "Ready?"


	22. Damsels (Are Doing It For Themselves)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: https://youtu.be/drGx7JkFSp4

Thea walked out of the elevator and stared at Oliver.

" _That_ is not how you normally dress for dinner," she said.

"What...?" Oliver stopped strapping on his quiver. Oh. Right. "We were going to have dinner tonight. Speedy, I'm so sorry."

"I knew something was up when your assistant said you had food poisoning. You came back from the island with an iron stomach," she said. "So what's really going on?"

"I don't have time to explain, Speedy," Oliver said, as he picked up his bow.

Oliver's phone buzzed.

"But I bet you have time for that," Thea said. She picked up his phone from its spot beside Felicity's workstation. "Oooh, it's Felicity! She's actually calling you!" She grinned at him. "I'll happily give up my dinner with you if you go out with Felicity instead."

"Give that to me," Oliver growled. He tapped the button to answer. "Hey..."

The phone was still on speaker, and the call was a video. Thea leaned around his side to see. 

"Oliver, it's me," Felicity said. She sat in a small, dark room. Laser-like beams of light separated her from the phone's camera. "I'm being held in one of the rooms in the back of my factory. By the bomber. The room is wired with explosives – if I try to leave, it will all blow up. Sh... they say that you need to come here, alone, or they'll kill me." She paused for a moment. "I need you. I need to you come and save me. I love you." She looked up, maybe at someone who holding the camera, then looked directly at him again. "You've got half an hour, or the explosives will go off anyways. And Oliver... please bring my spare glasses. You know what to do."

The call ended. 

Thea stared at him. "Did you already know about this?"

"What?" Oliver said. "No."

"Then why are you suited up already?" she asked.

"I was on my way out," Oliver said abruptly.

"Yes, but to do what?" Thea pressed.

"To rescue someone else," he said.

"Who?" Thea asked. "And you're going to get Felicity first, right?"

Oliver shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm going to find Susan Williams."

"But Felicity!!!" Thea said. "Oliver, she said she loved you!"

Oliver looked at her. "This is what Felicity wants," he said.

"But how to do you know?" Thea yelled at him. 

"She told me," Oliver said simply. 

He turned and headed for the elevator. 

*

Thea was sitting in the bunker, staring at her suit, when Dinah walked in, followed by Curtis. Only a few minutes had passed since Oliver left.

"Thea!" Dinah said. "Nice to see you down here! Where is everyone else?"

"Felicity is about to be killed by a bomber," Thea said. "And Oliver is out rescuing Susan Williams."

"Hold on," Curtis said. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

But before Thea could answer, Lyla came out of the elevator.

"Dinah, Curtis, you need to suit up," Lyla said. "Thea, you can come too, if you like. Felicity's in trouble."

"We already knew that," Thea said. "She called Oliver. But he went to go save that reporter bitch instead." She frowned. "Wait. How do you know?"

"Felicity is an important ARGUS asset," Lyla said. "So is Oliver. I've bugged both of their phones for years." She opened up one of the cases, pulled out a couple guns, and started loading ammunition. 

"What about your little girl?" Dinah asked.

"John's getting a babysitter for her," Lyla said. "I told him it was a work emergency."

"Wait, you're doing this without telling John?" Curtis asked.

"Yes," Lyla said. "Now suit up, if you want to come along." She looked at Thea. "Are you coming? 

* 

Lyla drove the van to the back of Felicity's factory and parked it a block away from Felicity's Mini, facing the opposite direction in case they needed to escape quickly. Everyone scrambled out: three masked vigilantes and the director of ARGUS. Thea glanced at her bow and hoped her recent lack of practice wouldn't be a problem. 

"Hold up a minute," Curtis said. "Did you see that?" He pointed at the ground.

Dinah bent down to pick up the small bit of plastic. "It looks like one of our comms," she said.

"It's Felicity's," Lyla said. Presumably she knew about that from listening to Felicity's phone, too.

Curtis held out his hand, and Dinah passed it to him. He held it up to his ear. "Why can't I hear any of you?" he asked. "You have comms in, don't you?" He paused. "And is that the sound of glass breaking?"

"It's probably Oliver," Lyla said.

"Wait, so Oliver and Felicity have been secretly talking to each other all this time?" Thea said.

"Something weird is going on with them," Curtis agreed. "Oh..." he froze. "That doesn't sound good."

"What doesn't?" Thea asked.

"I think Oliver's punching somebody," Curtis said. "He said something... but then he stopped in the middle of a sentence." He looked at Lyla. "Was John going to the bunker after he dropped Sara off?" 

Lyla nodded. 

"I'm going back," Curtis said. "Someone should monitor what's going on with Oliver, and it sounds like this is the only comm that's in contact with him." 

"Keep your other comm in, too, so you can talk to us," Lyla ordered. "And call Rene. Felicity gave Oliver the address of another warehouse – tell them to go to 5900 Waterfront Way, if Oliver doesn't check in."

Curtis nodded, then looked at them. "You know, it's pretty cool, the three of you going to rescue Felicity. Girl power, or something."

Thea, Dinah, and Lyla waved him away, and then headed into the factory.

*

For the first five minutes, Felicity had stayed silent, watching Alena. Using the ' _it's me but I don't need to be rescued'_ code had been a risk, she knew. Alena was obviously smart. And dangerous. And obsessed, in the way that other villains had been about Oliver. But Alena didn't hate her, not like Slade had hated Oliver or Dunning and Kruger hated Felicity. Maybe, just maybe, Felicity would be able to talk her down.

The question was... where to start.

"I've been really impressed by your bombs," Felicity finally said. "I couldn't figure out how you got them to work. No wires, no timer. How did you make the spark?"

"Well, the reactants were easy," Alena said. "And there are a lot of possible exothermic reactions to choose from. Do you have any idea how many substances react violently with oxygen?" She paused for effect. "So, so many. The hard part was keeping them from catching fire too early."

Felicity looked around nervously. "What are you using this time?" she asked.

"Oh, just electricity... wires, sparks. There's a real timer, too... and it reads... twenty-three minutes." Alena leaned to the side, out of Felicity's field of view. But at least Felicity knew where the timer was hidden now.

"So no chemistry this time?" Felicity said.

"Not for ignition," Alena said. "There's lots to work with here, of course, but people know me now. I was able to set up the other bomb because I was new here, and nobody really paid attention to me."

"So you did set the other bomb," Felicity said. "You killed Detective Malone." 

"I didn't mean for him to _die_ ," Alena said. "I didn't know someone had stuffed your office with rags and lighter fluid."

"But he did die," Felicity said. "Don't you feel the least bit guilty about it?"

Alena thought for a moment. "No," she finally said. "I mean, all I wanted was for him get blamed for the bombings, get arrested, and go to prison for the rest of his life. Or at least decide that he should stay away from you."

"Really?" Felicity said.

Alena shrugged. "He was boring and gross and had tiny hands. He wasn't worthy of you, and your life is better without him." She frowned at Felicity. "You're actually upset?" She stared at Felicity in disgust. "You weren't in love with him, were you? OMG, if you slept with him in your bed, I'll need to blow up your apartment..." 

"No, I wasn't in love with him," Felicity said. "I wasn't even dating him, despite what the Internet believed. But he was a good man, and he didn't deserve to die."

Alena shook her head. "Twenty minutes," she said.

*

Felicity tried again. "I thought you didn't know about my history with Oliver," she said.

"I lied," Alena said. "People do that sometimes."

Felicity left that statement alone and looked for another topic. "Oliver and I have been broken up for a while. Why did you decide that you needed to get us back together?"

" _Everyone_ thinks you need to get back together." Alena shrugged. "I'm sure you've seen the #OlicityWatch tag on Twitter."

"Yes," Felicity said.

"Someone had a great idea to send you wedding magazines. To remind you of what you were missing," Alena said.

"I remember that," Felicity said. "Was the same group responsible for the baby name books?"

"Uh-huh," Alena said. "And a nurse in our group suggested sending folic acid. And others started giving advice to your doctor, because you weren't listening to us."

"The first bomb was right after that," Felicity said. "In the parking garage under my gynecologist's office. Was that you?"

Alena nodded. "If there's anything that I learned from reading about you, it's that sometimes it's important to take action when you really care about something." She raised her head high. "I am a vigilante for love, marriage, and adorable Olicity babies." 

"You bombed several other medical office buildings," Felicity said. "One left a giant crater in the ground. People were scared of going to the doctor. And you blew up a truck full of IUDs. And... were you the one who replaced the birth control pills with placebos?"

Alena nodded. "Oliver was trying to get a vasectomy. Did you know that?" She shook her head. "I couldn't believe it. But then he stopped making appointments, so I had to deal with all the other birth control options, too."

"But why?" Felicity asked.

"Maybe if you got pregnant, you would have to get married," Alena said. "Or at least get back together."

"But..." Felicity wasn't quite sure how to put it. "If we weren't back together, I wasn't going to get pregnant."

"Oh, come on," Alena said. "Ex-sex is totally a thing. Especially when your ex is Oliver Queen."

Felicity wasn't going to touch that one. "So you wanted me to get pregnant so we would get back together?" She shook her head. "My parents are divorced, Alena. I know from experience that it doesn't always work out that way. At least, not well."

"My parents are divorced, too," Alena said. "But we can't let ourselves be limited by our parents' failures." She frowned at Felicity. "Is that why you hate babies? Because your parents divorced?"

"I don't _'hate babies,'_ Alena," Felicity said. "I just don't want to have them."

"But you think your company is your baby," Alena said. "You even called it that."

"I didn't..." Felicity thought back for a moment. "No. That was Curtis. It definitely sounds like something Curtis would say."

"But that's how you see it," Alena insisted. "You think your work is the most important thing in the world."

"Are you saying that babies are the most important thing in the world?" Felicity asked.

"Yes," Alena said. "Yes, they are."

"Really?" Felicity asked.

"What if your baby solves world hunger, or climate change, or cures cancer?" Alena argued. "Plus your babies would be beautiful."

Felicity shrugged. "Maybe Smoak Technologies will help solve climate change." _If I get out of here_ , Felicity thought. "And other people have beautiful babies. Your babies would be as wonderful as mine would be. More, probably." 

Alena paced away, then came back. "One of my professors told me that having babies would ruin me as a computer scientist."

Felicity shook her head. "That was Professor Jones, wasn't it? Alena, she was a lousy mentor. And she didn't get tenure at her first job, and her husband divorced her and married a student."

"That's why we need you to be our mentor," Alena argued. "Our role model. We need someone to look up to. Someone who shows us it is possible."

"Alena, one woman can't be your role model for _everything_ ," Felicity said. "You need women who are great mothers, and women who start companies, and women who balance work and babies, and women who have great relationships, and women who survive despite every horrible thing the world throws at them. And women who fight for the rights of other women to do what they want." She sighed. "I don't want to have babies, but I want the women who work for me to be able to have as many babies, and as much of a career, as they want. But I won't be able to do it if you blow me up." 

"She means it," another voice came from the hallway. "Didn't you read the family leave policy when she hired you? I know it's good; I helped her write it."

Lyla. Oh, thank everything.

"Also, you should step away from that room." Dinah, too.

"Lyla Michaels, Director of ARGUS," Alena said, tilting her head. "Lieutenant Dinah Drake, aka the Black Canary." She looked further down the hall. "And Thea Queen. I thought you had retired."

"I had," Thea said. "But that's my future sister-in-law that you're trying to kill. Which is really stupid, if you want her to be your role model. Trust me. Dead role models totally suck."

"We were listening," Lyla said. "And I want to add a few things to Felicity's argument. First: I get what you're saying, how people tell you it's not possible. You should have heard the things that Amanda Waller said to me when she found out I was pregnant." Lyla stepped into view. Her gun was aimed at Alena's head. "Actually, you shouldn't. Amanda Waller was not what anyone would describe as a _supportive female mentor_. But I had a baby, and I'm director of ARGUS. And I've survived." She looked at Felicity. "And it would be a lot harder if I didn't have friends."

"I want to add some things, too." Dinah brandished her staff. "It's not fair to demand that other women have babies. You don't know their stories... and they don't owe stories to you." She looked at Felicity. "I don't know Felicity's story, but I know mine. I was eight weeks pregnant when the particle accelerator in Central City exploded. I was ready to quit the police force and become a stay-at-home mom. But I lost the baby."

"Oh." Felicity bit her lip. "Oh, Dinah. I'm so sorry."

Dinah shrugged. "It was a lifetime ago, it seems. But I don't know if I _can_ have children now. I'm afraid to try."

Thea walked across behind Dinah. "Well, I don't have a story. I just wanted a little niece. Or nephew. Because my boyfriend is dead, and I want to be a badass aunt."

Alena frowned at her. "Roy Harper isn't dead. He faked it. He's living in Hub City now." She looked at the other women. "I thought everyone knew that?"

Thea huffed. "Ok. So maybe I should just invite Roy to come back, since there aren't actually any secrets left."

"You could be Sara's badass aunt," Lyla offered.

"I thought that was Felicity's job?" Thea asked.

"Who says a little girl can only have one badass aunt?" Lyla said. "You're welcome any time."

Alena coughed. "Five minutes," she said.

"Let Felicity go, Alena," Lyla said, raising her Glock. "You don't need to do this. Disarm the bomb."

The hummingbot buzzed into view, then zipped between the light beams to hover in front of Felicity. 

"Actually," Alena said, "That's true. I don't need to do it. But I _want_ to. And if you shoot me, the hummingbot will inject Felicity with peanut oil venom."

"She's serious," Felicity said. "And I'm really allergic. Sorry." 

"Then we'll have to disarm the bomb ourselves," Lyla said.

Thea shot an arrow at the hummingbot while Lyla dove for the timer and started clipping wires.

"You shouldn't have done that," Alena said. "Now it's going to go off faster." She looked at Felicity. "I wish Oliver would have come for you instead. It would have been much more romantic." She turned and walked away.

Dinah started to follow her.

"Wait," Lyla said. "If she's right..."

"I think she's right," Felicity said. 

"...if she's right, Dinah, we'll need you to deflect the explosion." Lyla looked at her. "Is that something you can do?"

"I can try," Dinah said.

Lyla nodded. "Then on the count of three: Felicity, dive to the ground – you'll trigger the bomb, but it's more important that you get as low as possible, and the bomb's going to go off anyway. Thea, make sure that flying robot thing doesn't come back to life. Dinah..."

"I scream," Dinah said. "Ready."

"One... two... three!"

Lyla grabbed the timer and threw it down the hall. Felicity dove to the ground. Thea was already there beside her, arrow nocked, watching for the hummingbot.

The explosion rippled through the air above them, but met Dinah's sonic scream, and dissipated.

"I love it when waves cancel each other out," Felicity said. "Physics is the best sometimes." 

"Where's the fire extinguisher?" Lyla asked. "Never mind. I've got it. And we should get out of the building."

She grabbed the extinguisher and covered the burning area with white powder. Thea and Felicity scrambled to their feet and rushed towards the door, followed by Lyla and Dinah.

"Yes... yes, we're all ok." Lyla was talking to someone on the comms.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked.

Dinah shook her head. "No. It's Curtis." She listened to her own comm. "Oliver isn't back. John and Rene are looking for him."

"They found Susan Williams," Lyla said. "But Oliver is gone."

"Then we need to get back to the bunker," Felicity said.


	23. Body Count

Oliver crashed through the window and landed with a roll on the warehouse floor. He got to his feet, looked around, and saw an open door with a light on inside. It seemed unlikely that Adrian Chase would leave such obvious clues, but it was probably important to check it out, anyway.

He nocked an arrow and moved quickly to the wall, staying hidden as long as possible before angling to a position where he could see into the room.

Susan was tied to a chair.

Oliver looked around quickly, then fired an arrow. It sliced through the ropes around her arms. A second arrow released her legs.

"Run," he growled. 

But Susan was looking at something beside the door. _Well, the odds of her being held captive in an otherwise empty room were low_ , Oliver's internal Felicity-voice pointed out. He entered the door, ready to fight.

Adrian Chase was surprisingly strong and agile, for a guy who spent all his time wearing a suit and arguing with people. He dodged Oliver's first punch, then hit Oliver in the ribs.

"I'm glad you came, Oliver," Adrian said. "I've been wanting to have a little conversation with you."

Oliver took the opportunity to land a punch on Adrian's jaw before Adrian's words sunk in.

"I didn't say anything," Susan said.

"Don't talk," Oliver said, punching Adrian again. "Run."

And then Susan was out the door, and Oliver was trading punches with Adrian, solid hits each time.

"You could have just scheduled a meeting," Oliver growled. He closed the distance between them, punched Adrian again, and spun him around.

But as Oliver was reaching around Adrian's neck for a choke, he felt a prick in his arm.

"You can punch me a couple more times if you want, Oliver," Adrian said. "But it won't be long before the..."

Oliver didn't hear the end of the sentence, because the world went dark.

*

Felicity, Lyla, Thea, and Dinah stalked out of the elevator.

"What's going on?" Felicity asked Curtis.

"I need a spare comm," Lyla said. Curtis handed her one, and she put it in her ear. "Spartan. Sit rep."

Felicity grabbed a pile of earbuds, and handed them out to everyone else.

 _We found Susan Williams outside the warehouse_ , John said. _Shaken up, but not hurt. Says not to take her to the police._

"Good," Felicity said.

"How's Princess Tadpole?" Lyla asked.

 _Staying with the Heffalumps_ , John replied. _Kanga wasn't around._

"Your babysitter has a codename?" Curtis asked.

"All their babysitters have codenames," Felicity said.

"Ok," Lyla said to John. "But you're the one who will have to deal with her demands for sugared cereals this time."

 _Roger that_ , John replied.

"Spartan, any sign of Green Arrow?" Felicity asked.

 _Negative_ , John replied. _I cleared the whole building. He's not there_.

"I need that computer," Felicity said to Curtis. "Move."

"I was going to switch to another one in a moment," Curtis said. "I'm trying to rig Oliver's comm so it goes through an amplifier. Maybe then we'll be able to hear something – figure out where he is. Even if he's hurt or unconscious."

"Do it," Felicity said. "But get out of my chair."

*

The world came into focus. Slowly. Oliver was leaning on a concrete wall.

No, wait, that was the floor. The room swung around erratically, as if Oliver was dangling from a helicopter or something, until it gradually settled into place.

Small room. Concrete floor. Concrete walls. Cold.

"Nice to see you back," Adrian said. A bare bulb on the other side of the room was the only light. It glowed behind Adrian's head like a demonic halo. "I've been looking forward to this little chat."

Oliver tried to say something – _go to hell_ or the equivalent – but all that came out was an indistinct moan.

Adrian clicked his tongue in disappointment. "I always thought the Green Arrow would be more resistant to drugs," he said. "But maybe that was Ollie Queen. I remember what you were like in high school. More parties than classes. Pee'd on that cop." Adrian laughed. "Look at you now."

Oliver's tongue felt thick, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He shook his head, but that didn't help to clear it at all.

"Never would have thought that Ollie Queen would live to age 30 at the rate you were going, let alone become the mayor," Adrian continued. "Though I guess the mortality rate of mayors in this city has been pretty high."

Oliver tried to focus on the details of his situation. Left hand was numb, probably from lying on it. Right hand... couldn't move very far. Restrained. Not zip ties. Chains?

He tried to move his feet. Yes. Chains. On all of his limbs.

Oliver looked up. Adrian was smiling down at him.

"Don't worry," Adrian said. "That wasn't a threat. I'm not going to kill you."

Oliver glared at him. "Wh...."

"There we go," Adrian said. "Keep working on it, Oliver. We can't have a conversation if you can't talk." 

"Why..." Oliver moved his tongue in his mouth. Getting better.

"Why?" Adrian asked. "Because I've been watching you, Oliver. Trying to figure out how the high school delinquent that I knew got to this point." He stepped back and paced across the room until his face was in the shadows. "Do you remember Celia Castle?" 

"May..." Oliver swallowed and tried again. "Mayor."

"That's right," Adrian said. "She was the mayor. Do you remember how she died, Oliver?"

Oliver thought back. It was hard to remember.

"I'll help," Adrian said. "An arrow. While she was in City Hall."

"Wasn't..." Oliver took a breath. "Wasn't me."

"No. I remember. You were accused of being the Arrow then, but another kid confessed to it." Adrian walked back, until half of his face was lit by the bare bulb again. "So the kid killed Celia Castle."

"Not..." Oliver stopped and tried again. "Not him either. Someone else. Trying to frame me."

Adrian stopped. "Trying to frame _you_? Not trying to frame the Arrow?" He smiled. "Here's hint for cross-examination, Oliver. Be careful of your pronouns when you're lying. They'll give you away, every time."

Oliver remained silent.

"So Celia Castle died. Shot by an arrow... but you weren't the one who shot her." Adrian walked back across the room. "Was that when you became mayor?"

"No," Oliver said.

"That's right," Adrian said. "That was Ruvé Adams who died and made you the mayor, not Celia Castle. How did Ruvé die, again?" 

"I didn't kill her either," Oliver growled. His tongue was finally starting to work right.

Adrian nodded. "No. You didn't. But they died, and now you're mayor." He smiled. "It always works out that way for you, doesn't it? I'm impressed."

* 

A screech of feedback filled the bunker.

"Sorry," Curtis said. "I'll turn it down."

But the sound from Oliver's comm was still static-y and indistinct.

"Did something happen to the wiring when the hummingbot took it?" Felicity asked. 

"I'll check," Curtis said. "You didn't move the little screwdrivers, did you?"

"No," Felicity replied. "They should be in..." She pulled out a drawer. "Ok. Maybe I did move them."

*

"I remember when you disappeared on that boat," Adrian said, walking away, as if leaving the previous conversational thread behind on the floor with Oliver. "I had just finished college. Was trying to figure out what to do next." He paused. "And then you came back. Different."

The air was cold on Oliver's chest. Oh. Somehow, before chaining him, Adrian had stripped off Oliver's jacket and shirt.

"Some people said that it was being alone on an island that changed you. Or maybe your father's death. But I knew differently." He squatted near enough to look Oliver in the eye. "You changed when Sara Lance died."

Oliver shivered. The room was drafty. 

"Well, _'died.'_ " Adrian stood up and walked away, then returned. "But you didn't know that at the time."

Oliver frowned. He couldn't remember how many people knew that Sara had survived the boat.

"Was that the death that changed you?" Adrian asked. "Or was it Shado Fei?" 

Oliver blinked. 

"Oh," Adrian said. "You didn't realize that anyone knew that part of your story. See, while you were gone, I was studying to get into law school. And when I finally got in... let's just say that I learned how to do my research. You've been a special project of mine for a while."

"Project?" Oliver asked.

"Yes," Adrian said. "I was in law school when you came back from the island. Had been there for a year. Worked hard to get in, worked hard while I was there. But I was burning out – too many late nights, not enough reasons for them. I didn't know what inspired people to keep going. But then I learned about The Hood."

"I wasn't inspired," Oliver said.

"No?" Adrian said. "Well, maybe inspired is the wrong word. But those deaths - Sara, Shado, Taiana Venediktova, those women in Russia – they turned you into something else." 

"Not a good something," Oliver said.

"Maybe not," Adrian said. "But you had a purpose." He pulled a chair from the shadows and sat down. "Not that it was obvious to me at the time."

Oliver waited for Adrian to move again, then tugged on his chains, one at a time. No weaknesses in any of them.

"I did an internship with the Starling City DA's office the next year. With Kate Spencer. Do you remember her? Or did too many people die that spring?"

Oliver barely remembered DA Spencer. But he remembered that spring.

"Your rival at Queen Consolidated. What was her name? Oh, yes, Isabel Rochev." Adrian raised his eyebrows. "You probably remember her." 

Yes, Oliver thought. Too well.

"And – how could anyone forget – your mother."

Oliver glared at him.

"I was sympathetic, of course, when I heard about your mother. I remember when my own mother died." Adrian nodded to himself. "She was the one who wanted me to be a lawyer, you know. She always said I could make something of myself."

"What happened to her?" Oliver asked.

"She choked," Adrian said. "Thanksgiving dinner, 2010. I took her to the hospital, but it was too late." He shook his head sadly. "From that moment, I knew that I needed to live up to her dreams for me." He leaned towards Oliver. "Is that how it felt when your mother died?" he asked. "Or did it take more than that?"

* 

"Got it," Curtis said.

A voice echoed in the bunker.

"Turn it down," Thea said. "Seriously. You're worse than a club."

"Ok, ok," Curtis said. 

Finally, the sound worked. 

They listened.

"Is that the DA?" Dinah asked. 

*

"I managed to finish law school, even with the super-soldiers and the riots." Adrian leaned back in his chair and stared into the distance. "Met my wife in that chaos, too. Best thing that ever happened to me. She was running away from a group of those guys with masks. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into a building. We were safe." Adrian smiled. "She kissed me."

"Romantic," Oliver grunted.

"We got married later that year," Adrian said. "I had trouble finding a job, though. Bounced around from one law firm to another. But then you were arrested for being the Arrow."

"You wanted to prosecute me?" Oliver asked.

Adrian chuckled. "Oh, no, Oliver. You still don't understand. I don't want to put you in prison." He leaned forward. "I want to _be_ you."

"No," Oliver said. "I don't understand."

"When I realized that you were the Arrow, I started doing research. I wanted to know how the Ollie Queen that I had known could have turned into the Star City vigilante."

"You already said that," Oliver pointed out. "You found out about my time on the island."

"It was more than that," Adrian said. "Sara Lance. Shado Fei. Kate Spencer. Isabel Rochev. Moira Queen. Sara Lance, again. Celia Castle. Amanda Waller. Laurel Lance. Ruvé Adams. Your old housekeeper, Raisa." He stood up and paced across the room, then turned to face Oliver. "What do they all have in common?"

"They're dead?" Oliver guessed.

Adrian nodded. "It's an impressive list of women who were killed in order to make you into the man that you are."

"I didn't kill them," Oliver said. He remembered the list of women – and men - that he _had_ killed. 

"Not directly," Adrian agreed. "That's what impressed me the most. Your motivation, your purpose, your transformation... it was all built on the bodies of dead women. And yet your hands are clean. At least, of these deaths." He sat and leaned towards Oliver again. "I might not have realized it, except when I noticed the ones that didn't die."

Oliver frowned. "What?"

"McKenna Hall," Adrian said. "Shot. Badly. Couldn't walk afterwards. Went back to Coast City. Never returned to Starling after that." Adrian raised an eyebrow. "You were sleeping with her." 

Oliver shrugged acknowledgment. He hadn't thought about McKenna in years.

"Your sister," Adrian said. "Nearly killed by the League of Assassins. Your fiancée, Felicity Smoak, shot and paralyzed by Damian Darhk's men." He stood and bent over Oliver. "Some of the women have died. But not all of them. That's what happens when you take an indirect approach. Sometimes it leaves them alive."

"What are you saying?" Oliver asked.

"Those women didn't just happen to die," Adrian said. "You created the circumstances of their deaths. And their deaths transformed you. And a few times... a few times they survived. But you were transformed, nonetheless."

Oliver frowned. Felicity suspected that Adrian had somehow killed two women who appeared to have died by accident. What else could he have done?

"Adrian," Oliver said, "how did your wife die?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make a list of all the women that had died on Arrow (in my fic-prep notes, not included here). Not sure I got them all.
> 
> The "women in Russia" (and Raisa) refer to events described in "Truths and Consequences," not to events on the real show.
> 
> I considered and abandoned a lot of possible villain motivations for Adrian Chase before settling on "man-pain angst-maven copycat." I'm not sure if the motivation works, but it felt better than "obsessive Lauriver fan" or "creepy serial killer in search of a wingman" (which were the main competition).


	24. A Secret Told

"I mean, one _could_ argue that Amanda Waller's death had a bigger impact on the Diggle family than on Oliver," Curtis pointed out.

"Shhh." The argument had already gone on too long for Thea. "Felicity, any idea where Oliver might be?"

"I'm working on it," Felicity said. "I normally track the GPS on his phone, but either his phone is off, or he's someplace that doesn't have a cell signal."

"Can you..." Dinah started.

"I wish people wouldn't start questions that way," Felicity said. "Yes, I can get his track – I can find where he went before his phone disappeared from the network. But the track isn't downloaded automatically to the bunker workstation – I ping his phone when I need to find him. For old tracks, I need to hack his phone records. Which isn't hard. It just takes a little time."

*

"Doris," Adrian said. "Her name was Doris. It's important to say the names."

 _Names_ , Oliver thought. But he didn't say that out loud. Instead, he repeated himself. "How did Doris die, Adrian?"

"Carbon monoxide poisoning," Adrian whispered. "In the garage. We were planning to leave town, after the sewers collapsed. Just after you became mayor."

"You weren't in the car?" Oliver asked.

"Ran back to get some things," Adrian said. "When I came back out, Doris was dead. Something faulty in the car." He shook his head back and forth. "That was my first case when I became District Attorney. A consumer protection lawsuit. Doris didn't die in vain." He set his jaw and looked into the distance. "I became District Attorney for her."

"How long were you inside the house?" Oliver asked. As far as he knew, it took quite a while to accumulate enough carbon monoxide to kill someone. Theoretically. Anatoly had explained the process, back when they were in Russia. But that was one technique that Oliver had never used.

"A few hours..." Adrian looked over Oliver's head, at something - or someone - that Oliver couldn't see. 

"And she didn't come into the house to find you?" Oliver asked. Carbon monoxide poisoning made people feel ill, first, before it killed them. Sometimes they would realize it, and try to get to fresh air. Anatoly had suggested giving the target vodka – a lot of vodka, even more than usual – before turning on the vehicle or heater or whatever would provide the deadly gas.

"No," Adrian said. 

"Adrian," Oliver said, "was your wife conscious when you left her in the car?"

"What are you implying?" Adrian whispered. "It was a tragedy."

Oliver nodded. "A tragedy that kept you going."

"Exactly," Adrian said. "You understand. Our tragedies... they define us. You and me... we're not so different."

"You became District Attorney over a year ago," Oliver noted. "The same time I was re-elected as mayor." He paused, thinking through his words. He was used to beating a confession out of his subjects, or leaving them tied up for the police. Adrian was the one who knew how to use words as weapons. "How have you kept going since then?"

"It was hard," Adrian said. "So hard. I won that first case – Doris's case. But the next one was tough. I lost that one."

Oliver couldn't remember the case, but he nodded sympathetically. "Sometimes you lose."

"The first girl died after that," Adrian said. "Bad wiring in her apartment. Wasn't up to code. There was a fire." He smiled. "The landlord has a new place in Iron Heights now." 

"And then...?" Oliver asked.

"It was easier to try a case after a death," Adrian said. "The jury was more sympathetic."

Oliver made a mental note to search through all of the cases that Adrian had handled, to see how many deaths there had been.

"But it's been getting harder," Adrian said.

"Harder to convince a jury?" Oliver asked 

"Harder to keep going," Adrian said.

"You mean you have to kill more people," Oliver said.

"My hands are clean," Adrian murmured. "Just like yours." He looked at the floor, then up. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Oliver asked. 

"Your family's old housekeeper, Raisa, died over a year ago," Adrian said. "After that, nobody. You got re-elected, you pushed through a new development plan, your approval rating just keeps getting better. And the Green Arrow is even more popular than the mayor. How do you do it?" 

Oliver shrugged. "I love my city."

"Yes," Adrian nodded. "But since when has that been enough? You've lived in this city for your entire life, Oliver."

"It means more to me now," Oliver said.

"But why?" Adrian asked. "You were always good at covering your tracks. What have you been doing lately?" He leaned towards Oliver. "Tell me."

"Nothing new," Oliver said.

Adrian shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"Meetings, press conferences..." Oliver would have checked the list off on his fingers, but his arms were chained too far apart.

"Boring," Adrian said. "Come on, Oliver. Meetings suck the life out of you. What gives it back." He stood up and walked across the room. "What keeps you going. Day after day. Night after night." He spun and walked back to Oliver. "What's your secret, Oliver?"

"Lots of vegetables," Oliver said. "And a slow cooker."

"You're the Green Arrow, not the Jolly Green Giant," Adrian said. "I'm serious here, Oliver. What's your secret?"

"Nothing," Oliver said. "I don't have a secret."

Adrian looked him up and down. "Your scars and tattoos tell a different story."

"You've found out about the island," Oliver said. "So that doesn't count."

"No," Adrian agreed. "It doesn't. But I don't know what you've been doing lately, to avoid new scars."

"Adrian, I don't have a secret to tell," Oliver argued. 

"Maybe you need to be convinced."

*

 _Susan's back at her apartment_ , Rene said over the comms. _You found the Green Arrow yet?_

"Almost," Felicity said. "Just pulling the GPS data for his phone and plotting it." She stared at the screen. "Crap on a stick. It's encrypted. These kinds of data are never encrypted like this." She went back to typing in her terminal window.

*

Oliver gasped for air as his head came out of the water. "Adrian," he said when he could finally breath again. "I told you. I don't have a secret."

Adrian nodded. "I didn't think that torture would make a difference with you."

"Then why are you doing this?" Water dripped into Oliver's eyes.

"Curiosity," Adrian said. "I've always wondered how much a human body could take." 

"Adrian, you're insane," Oliver said. 

"That's more like it," Adrian said. "Using mental illness as an insult. I like it. What else do you have?"

Oliver breathed several times. "Adrian. I don't know what you want from me."

"Tell me," Adrian said. "Tell me everything. Or else."

"Or else what? Adrian, you've been trying to drown me, you tried burning me with a cigarette lighter, you tried to trace my tattoos with a knife. What else are you going to do?" Oliver slumped back to the ground. 

"Just wondering what makes a hero tick," Adrian said. "But I've got one more experiment. Unless you're ready to talk now."

Oliver shook his head. "I would if I had anything to say, Adrian."

Adrian nodded. "That's why I planned a different kind of leverage." He sat back in the chair. "Remember how you rescued Susan Williams?"

Oliver frowned. Yes. That was how this had started.

"In fifteen minutes, she will go into cardiac arrest." Adrian stood up and walked away. He looked back over his shoulder. "Unless you talk."

"How can you even know that?" Oliver asked.

Adrian walked back. "That would be my secret," he replied. "Tell me yours."

"I don't have one," Oliver insisted. 

"Fine," Adrian said. "Maybe this is the wrong approach. Maybe this is what you wanted to happen all along."

"You're sick, Adrian," Oliver said. 

"A gift," Adrian said. "Her death will be your fault, after all. Do you want that on your conscience?" He leaned forward. "Or do you like being a hero?"

"Adrian," Oliver said.

"Maybe you do want to be a hero," Adrian mused. "In which case, you'll tell me how a hero manages. And I'll make sure Susan gets to a hospital. All she needs is an EMT in the right place at the right time." He smiled. "But there won't be one. Not unless you talk."

*

"That doesn't sound good," Dinah said. "Rene, can you get back to Susan's place?"

 _Yeah_ , he said. _It's a few blocks away, though._  

"I'll call an ambulance," Lyla said. "Tell me the address." 

"I've had a lot of first responder training," Dinah said. "I can go, too."

"Yes, go," Felicity said, distracted.

"Have you found Oliver yet?" Curtis asked.

"Almost..." Felicity said. "YES. There he is." She punched her fist into the air.

 _Overwatch, if you've got an address for me, I can head that way,_ John said over the comms. 

"I can go, too," Thea said. "Lyla?"

Lyla shook her head. "Johnny and I have a new rule. Only one parent in the field per mission."

Felicity frowned. "You rescued _me_."

"Two different missions," Lyla said. "Plus Johnny was getting the babysitter while I was looking for you."

"Fine," Felicity said, then looked around. "What are you all waiting for? Go!"

*

"Do you know what cardiac arrest feels like?" Adrian asked.

Oliver had to think back through the full catalog of his injuries. "I was unconscious at the time," he finally said. 

"So you don't know what it feels like, when it happens suddenly. I imagine it's different after being burned, or stabbed, or shot, or..." He frowned at the scars. "Is that a bite?" 

"Shark," Oliver confirmed. 

Adrian nodded thoughtfully, but changed the subject. "What do you think Susan is doing right now? Checking her e-mails? Writing the first draft of her story about the mysterious deaths of a couple rookie cops?" He smiled. "Or do you think she's in the shower?"

"Adrian..." Oliver threatened.

"Let's assume she's in the shower. Do you think she washes her hair first? Or maybe her wrists, where they were tied. Maybe she scrubs her skin where I first grabbed her."

"Adrian, stop this..." Oliver tugged against his chains. They didn't budge. 

"Just the threat makes you want to be a hero, doesn't it, Oliver." Adrian's voice was suddenly soft. "So what's kept you going all this time? If nobody's dying – nobody's even being threatened – why do you keep putting on that mask and hood?"

"Adrian, nobody has to die," Oliver said. "I don't need people to die."

"You wouldn't be the man you are today if you hadn't lost people," Adrian said. "You would still be that rich, spoiled, useless womanizer that you were before the island. You wouldn't be the mayor, or the Green Arrow. You would still be Ollie Queen."

"Maybe," Oliver conceded. "But I learned my lessons a long time ago. I don't need more people to die." 

"Then tell me what's driving you now," Adrian demanded. He looked at his watch. "You've got three more minutes before Susan Williams dies."

"I told you, Adrian..." Oliver whispered. "Please. No."

"Two minutes and thirty seconds." Adrian stared him down. "Tell me. There's got to be something that keeps you going, something that nobody else knows about you." 

"Adrian..." Oliver swallowed. 

"Two minutes," Adrian said. "Maybe you _have_ been killing women in secret after all. Or..."

"Nobody else dies," Oliver said. "Nobody."

"One minute and thirty seconds," Adrian said. "Susan's heart is about to stop. You liked her heart, didn't you?" 

"No," Oliver said. "You've got it all wrong."

"Then tell me," Adrian said. "One minute."

Oliver just shook his head back and forth, breathing hard, all of the fears and horrors and guilt reaching back into him and filling the spaces from which they had been driven out, slowly, over the past six years. He closed his eyes and tried to hold himself together.

"Thirty seconds," Adrian said. "What's been keeping you going all this time?"

"I've been married to Felicity Smoak for six months!!!" Oliver finally shouted. "And it's the best choice I ever made!"


	25. Truths

Adrian stepped back. "That... was not what I expected."

Oliver tried to force his heart to stop pounding. "I told you my secret," he said. 

Adrian looked down at his phone. "You're in luck," he said. "The EMTs are there. Susan will live." He dropped a key on the floor. "Your friends will be here soon. They can let you go." 

"What are you going to do?" Oliver asked.

"Think," Adrian said. "You've given me a lot to think about, Oliver." He walked towards a small door, then turned back. "See you at work."

Oliver stared at the door after it shut. 

A few minutes passed in silence before John rushed into the room. Thea – suited up, even – was behind him. 

John grabbed the key and started to remove Oliver's chains. "Chase was gone before we got here," John said, answering the question that Oliver hadn't asked. "And Susan Williams is ok. Rene and Dinah are at her place, keeping an eye on the EMTs. They're taking her to the hospital right now."

"You heard...?" Oliver frowned, shaking the numbness out of his hands .

John nodded. "Curtis hooked Felicity's comm to a speaker," he said. "The whole team has been listening."

"Your WIFE is fine, by the way," Thea said. "You should have asked about her first."

Oliver looked from Thea to John and back again.

"We heard that, too," John confirmed. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

* 

"Oliver!" Felicity stared at Oliver's blood-streaked chest as he walked out of the elevator between John and Thea. "Oh my god."

"It's ok to kiss him," Curtis said. "Or at least tenderly bandage all of his injuries. Given that you're MARRIED."

Felicity shot him a glare. Curtis hadn't stopped his commentary for more than thirty seconds since Oliver had confessed his secret to Adrian Chase.

"I'm ok," Oliver said.

"You need to make sure those don't get infected," Lyla said. "And I'll help." She headed for the med table, where the bandages and antiseptic were already laid out.

Oliver stopped in front of Felicity. "You're all right?" he asked. "Thea told me about Alena."

"I'm fine," Felicity said. 

"You might not have been," Oliver frowned.

"It turns out that the director of ARGUS uses my tech to keep track of me. And Lyla, Dinah, and Thea totally kick ass," Felicity said. "I'm fine."

"Though we're going to need to check the factory for structural stability," Curtis said. "This would have gone a lot more smoothly if you had just let your HUSBAND rescue you."

Felicity ignored him and took some antiseptic from Lyla. "This will sting."

"I know," Oliver said. He looked a little contrite and a little relieved. And maybe a little sappy, but this was neither the time nor the place for that.

John coughed in the background. "We need to talk," he said. "What the hell did the two of you think you were doing?"

Rene and Dinah walked out of the elevator before Felicity or Oliver managed to answer.

"Susan Williams is in the hospital," Dinah said. She had changed into plainclothes at some point, though Rene was still dressed as Wild Dog. "She's stable. I don't think they know what caused her heart to stop."

"That's something we need to figure out," Oliver said. "Thank you – both of you – for helping."

"It would have been easier if we had known what was going on, boss," Rene said. "So the DA is a serial killer or something? And you were, what, fake-dating Susan Williams while you were married to Felicity?"

Everyone looked at Oliver and Felicity. 

"Yes," Oliver finally said. "Adrian Chase is a serial killer."

"What about the fake dating?" Curtis asked.

"And the part about being MARRIED without telling any of us?" Thea echoed. "You need to renew your vows. Or at least have a reception. Because seriously, what the hell do you think you were doing, getting married without any of us?"

"Or Donna," Curtis said. "It's a good thing that Alena didn't blow you up, Felicity, because your mother's going to want to kill you herself."

Felicity stepped back from bandaging Oliver's injuries. "The District Attorney is a serial killer," she said, "and one of my employees has been blowing up offices around Star City for months. And she killed a police officer. And all you want to talk about is the wedding that you missed?" She glared from one person to another. "I need some air."

She grabbed her phone and her tablet and headed for the elevator.

* 

"Aren't you going to go after her?" Rene asked.

Oliver shook his head. "When Felicity says ' _I need some air_ ,' she means she wants some time alone," he said. "She doesn't want me – or anyone else - to follow her."

"And you're just going to stay here?" Rene frowned. "Really?"

"That's why he's married, and you're divorced," Dinah pointed out.

"Actually, I'm divorced because I lied about getting rid of all of my guns after Zoe was born," Rene muttered. 

"This should give you time to explain things to us," John said, giving Oliver a steady look.

Oliver looked back at him, then gave him a short nod. "Fine," he agreed.

It took a long time to explain it all. The way Felicity had been harassed on the Internet after she had broken their second engagement. The magazines, and the books, and the vitamins. The sequence of bombings, and the threatening notes, and the attacks on birth control in the city. Their failed attempt to lure the bomber into the open at the venture capital presentation. The interest in the bombings from Billy Malone and Susan Williams. Susan's interest in other issues – corruption in the police department, and mysterious deaths tied to the District Attorney – which had led to Susan's kidnapping by Adrian Chase. 

"Wait," Curtis said. "When exactly did you get married?" 

"After the vasectomy," Oliver said.

"And nobody knew, in all this time?" Rene asked. "Wow."

"I hope you at least took wedding pictures," Thea grumbled.

"Sara's crew did, I think," Oliver said. "We'll find them in a safe deposit box in a couple years." He looked at the rest of the group to gauge their reactions. 

John wasn't looking at him. "You're awfully quiet," he said to Lyla.

Lyla stood her ground, hands on her hips, and looked up at him. "What are you saying, Johnny?"

"Did you know that they were married?" John asked.

Lyla sighed. "Yes." 

Oliver blinked. "Really?"

"I pay attention to ARGUS assets," Lyla said. "Felicity wrote all of our best surveillance software. And you worked with Amanda Waller on missions that are so highly redacted in our records that they might as well be printed on Swiss cheese. If either of you is ever compromised, ARGUS will be in big trouble." 

John scowled at her. "You didn't just track Felicity to protect her. You listened to their phones."

"Yes," Lyla said, holding up her head. "I did."

"And you didn't tell me." John shook his head. "Lyla, these are our best friends."

"And Felicity is safe because I was keeping an eye on her," Lyla argued.

"You still should have told me," John said.

"That was their decision," Lyla said. "Not mine."

John just shook his head.

Curtis frowned at Dinah. "You're quiet, too."

Rene stared at her. "Did you know?"

Dinah shrugged. "Not for sure. I was only about 80% certain that they were back together."

"And you didn't say anything?" Curtis looked annoyed.

"I agree with Lyla," Dinah said. "It was their choice."

"So what are we going to do now?" Thea asked.

"Yeah," Rene said. "We know that the DA is a serial killer. Curtis even made a recording." He looked at Curtis. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," Curtis said. "As soon as we figured out that the DA had kidnapped you." 

"It won't make very good evidence, though," Dinah pointed out. "A lot of the recording incriminates Oliver, too." 

"And what about Alena?" Thea asked.

Oliver shook his head. "I don't think we should do anything about Alena without Felicity's input," he said. 

"She's back at her loft," Lyla said, glancing at her phone.

They stared at her.

"I'm not tracking her this time," Lyla said. "I texted to make sure she's ok. We made plans to have coffee tomorrow."

John shook his head at her.

Dinah coughed softly. "It sounds like we should all head home," she suggested. "We can talk more tomorrow, when Felicity is ready."

*

Oliver dropped onto Felicity's balcony. She wasn't outside, so he tapped lightly on the window.

It took a few moments, but Felicity padded to the door and pulled it open. She was already in her pajamas, soft flannel bottoms and a sleeveless top. Oliver wanted to touch, but he didn't.

"Hey," he said when she opened the door. "I just came by to see if you're all right."

Felicity sighed and moved to the side to let him in. "I'm drinking chamomile tea," she said. "I think the water's still hot, if you want some."

Oliver nodded, and Felicity found a mug in the cupboard. It looked like one of the ones that Donna had given to her, the first time they had planned to get married. She didn't say anything while she found a tea bag, poured in some hot water, and pushed the lemon and honey towards Oliver.

"So," Oliver said.

"So," Felicity replied. 

"I'm sorry I told our friends this way," he started.

"What," she responded acidly. "You don't think it was a good idea to announce our wedding to our friends by telling a serial killer that we are married?"

Oliver sighed. "You're right," he said. "But..."

Felicity shook her head. "I know there wasn't really an option," she said. "You didn't know that Dinah and Rene had already gotten to Susan's apartment. Our secret wasn't worth losing a life." She tilted her head. "Another life, I guess."

Oliver bowed his head and nodded. "So what's the matter?" he asked. "And don't say..."

"Nothing," Felicity insisted. 

"Don't say _nothing_ ," Oliver repeated. "Felicity, you don't drink chamomile tea unless something is wrong."

She squirted more honey from the plastic bear and stirred it into the dregs of her tea.

Oliver waited for her to find the words.

"Adrian Chase wanted to know what made you a hero," she finally said. "And you told him that you married me."

Oliver nodded. "I wish I hadn't said anything," he said. "Not to him. Not like that. I'm sorry."

"That's not it," Felicity said. She looked out the window, at the lights of the city. "Do you remember our first wedding? The fake one, the trap for Cupid?"

"Yes," Oliver said cautiously. 

"Do you remember afterwards? When I gave you back the ring?"

Oliver's heart sunk. "Yes," he said. 

"I told you that I was afraid that you would go back to being the man who returned from the island," she said. "But that wasn't all that I was afraid of."

Oliver just waited for her to continue. 

"You said... you told me that I brought you into the light. That I was the light." She looked at him, then away.

"I meant it," Oliver said. "I meant every word of it."

"I know," Felicity said. "And that's what I was afraid of. That if I ever stopped being that light – if I ever slipped up for a moment – that it would all fall apart. That you would fall apart, go back to the guilt, and the lying. Go back to being the Hood. Go back to killing people."

"I won't," Oliver said. "That's not who I am any more."

"That's not what you said to Adrian Chase," Felicity said. "You said – well, you implied – that I'm the reason that you're the Green Arrow, the hero - not the Hood now." 

"Well, it's true," Oliver said. "It's still true. You make me a better person."

Her shoulders slumped. "What if I can't do it, Oliver?" 

"What do you mean?" He frowned. 

"What if I can't be the person you need?" She bit her lip and frowned back.

"Felicity," Oliver said, leaning forward to look into her eyes. "You'll always be the person that I need."

Felicity sighed and shook her head. "I can't do this, Oliver," she said. "I can't be that person right now." She stood and put her mug in the sink. "I want to sleep alone tonight," she said. "You can finish your tea first. But please lock the balcony door behind you."


	26. Surveillance-Free Zones

Felicity and Lyla carried their coffee cups into the back room of the cafe. They liked that room: Lyla regularly checked it for bugs, and it had no cameras present, ever. When you are Overwatch and the head of ARGUS, you can never be too careful, even if you're chatting about marriages and kids.

"Oliver went back to his apartment last night," Lyla commented.

Felicity nodded. "I _should_ appreciate that you keep an eye on us," she said, "especially after the rescue last night."

Lyla nodded. "I know it's intrusive," she said. "But if it helps, I keep everything that I learn to myself. Even if my husband doesn't approve."

Felicity nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

"So how are things with Oliver?" Lyla asked.

Felicity tilted her head. "Is that question part of ARGUS surveillance, too?"

"That's a question from a friend," Lyla said. "Though if it helps, I won't share that information, either."

Felicity sighed. "I don't know," she said. "I feel like I should be relieved that we found the bomber, and that the team knows that we're married."

"But." Lyla said.

Felicity nodded. "But. Lyla... I'm scared."

Lyla looked thoughtful. "I know you're not scared of Oliver," she said. "Even when Oliver was scary, you weren't afraid of him. And I think he learned his lesson about keeping secrets from you, after your first break-up."

Felicity nodded. "You're right. That's not what I'm afraid of."

"So...?" Lyla asked.

"This might sound weird, but... do you think someone could put too much of their heart into a relationship?"

"How so?" Lyla asked.

"Oliver thinks that I make him a better person," Felicity said. "And. Well."

"That doesn't sound like loving too much," Lyla said.

Felicity shook her head. "Ok. Maybe that's not what I meant." She frowned and tried again. "I'm afraid that Oliver relies too much on me. I mean... emotionally? Morally? Ethically?"

Lyla took a sip of her coffee and waited for Felicity to continue.

"I mean..." Felicity stopped, breathed, and started over. "I always believed that Oliver had a good heart, even when he was killing people – he just needed a nudge to go in a better direction. And I tried to give him that nudge. And it felt good when he listened to me – it felt like I was making a difference."

Lyla nodded. "From what I've seen of Oliver's files, I think you did make a difference."

"But that was a long time ago," Felicity said. "I mean, it was always a thrill to see him light up when I encouraged him. A major turn-on, honestly. But I'm glad that I don't have to do that any more."

Lyla nodded again. 

"And... I don't think I can handle the responsibility to keep nudging him like that. Not forever. I'm not perfect." Felicity looked down into her coffee.

"This is about Alena," Lyla said.

"I don't think so," Felicity responded.

"I think it is," Lyla said. "Or at least, about the expectations that you put on yourself. How old were you, again, when you left for MIT?"

"Fifteen," Felicity said.

"And everyone there expected you to be perfect. Perfect, or a failure. Just like everyone in Vegas did," Lyla said.

"I was a Goth in college," Felicity argued.

"A perfect Goth," Lyla said. "A Goth who felt guilty when her boyfriend apparently killed himself for something that you did."

"What's your point?" Felicity muttered. Talking about MIT made her feel like she was going through puberty again.

"My point is... there's a difference between what Alena expected you to be, and what Oliver wants," Lyla said.

"Oliver wants a conscience," Felicity said.

Lyla shook her head. "Oliver wants you."

"They're the same thing, to him," Felicity said. "But what if I guide him wrong?" She sighed. "Lyla, keeping the marriage secret was my idea. Sending Susan Williams to talk to Adrian Chase was my idea. If it weren't for me, Susan wouldn't have been kidnapped. And Billy Malone would still be alive."

"And you think that you'll lead Oliver astray, too?" Lyla said. "Listen. I know a little bit about being married."

"Twice," Felicity smiled. "To the same man."

"Exactly," Lyla said. "And I had a baby between the two marriages. Johnny and I hardly took the fairy-tale path to true love. But we're still together." She took a sip of her coffee. "Even though I did sleep on the couch last night."

"Because of us?" Felicity groaned. "Oh, Lyla, I'm sorry."

"Because of me, and because of Johnny," Lyla said. "My _need-to-know_ rules, and Johnny's different opinions about what he needs to know." She shrugged. "But the point is that we get through these things."

"But you're..." Felicity flailed around for a word. "John is the kindest man – kindest person – that I know. You make him happy, but you didn't need to change him."

Lyla raised her eyebrows. "You didn't know him in Afghanistan," she said. "Felicity, of course you changed Oliver. Every person we meet changes us, in some way or another. You just hope that you marry someone who changes you for the better." She laughed wryly. "Well, mostly for the better."

Felicity nodded slowly. "Sure. I mean, I know I'm a different person than I was before I met Oliver. Doing the Arrow work made me happier than anything I had ever done, and I wanted to keep doing it, even when Oliver didn't. I never wanted to go back to being an IT girl after I got a taste of that life. I didn't even want to be _just_ a CEO."

"He changed Johnny, too," Lyla said.

"For the worse?" Felicity asked. "I mean, John was wonderful from the first moment I met him."

"No," Lyla said. "For the better. I wouldn't have married Johnny a second time if it hadn't been for Oliver." She looked into her coffee cup. It was almost empty. "So don't worry about needing to be perfect to keep Oliver heroic, or even just functioning. He'll survive. And maybe he'll learn to be your emotional support sometimes, too." 

Felicity nodded. 

"Think about it, at least," Lyla said. "You can watch and see for yourself if he manages to keep going, even when you stumble. After all, you've got, what, two years before Sara's crew deposits the paperwork for your marriage?"

"What, you think we could just annul the marriage if things don't work out?" Felicity asked. Her heart sunk at the thought.

"You could," Lyla said. But Felicity could tell that Lyla didn't believe for a moment that they would.

They sat silently for a moment. Felicity drew a picture on the table with a bit of spilled coffee.

"So," Lyla said. "What do you want to do about Alena?"

Felicity looked sideways at her. "I was hoping that ARGUS could help," she said. "Like you did with Anastasia and Marcus in Boston. When Oliver and I got back together, the first time."

Lyla shook her head. "I was afraid you would say that. I can't do it."

"Why not?" Felicity asked. "Serial killer. Bomber. At least as bad as Anastasia and Marcus were."

Lyla shrugged helplessly. "I got in trouble for bringing them in. They weren't _'clear international targets.'_ The case had nothing to do with the _'national interest_.'" She tried to take another sip of coffee, but her cup was empty. "It turns out that protecting my child showed questionable leadership." 

Felicity shook her head. "What?"

"I know," Lyla sighed. "Apparently a mother's concern for a daughter makes her less fit to lead a Federal agency than, say, a man who uses ARGUS jets to visit his three mistresses." She peered at her coffee cup. "Even when all three of them turned out to be foreign agents, too."

Felicity decided that last story didn't fit the definition of _need to know_ , so she lifted her coffee cup instead. "Do you want to get some more?" she asked.

"No," Lyla said. "I need to get to work soon. What are you going to do for the rest of the day?"

"Well, Curtis and I closed both the factory and the office for now," Felicity said. "Curtis was right about needing to do a structural inspection before letting anyone back into the factory. John and Rene are handling security there, and Dinah is doing some fast detective work to see if Alena left any useable evidence."

"And your office?" Lyla asked. 

"It's locked," Felicity said. "The keys are electronic, and I reprogrammed them. Alena won't be getting back in there." She frowned. "I hope. Maybe I should do the whole Silicon Valley firing thing, and hire security to keep her away from the company. I bet John and Rene could do it." 

"They'd probably appreciate the work. But will Oliver still be able to get into the bunker?" Lyla asked. "Extra security might draw attention to the place."

"Oliver always goes in through the garage these days, anyway," Felicity said. "Those doors have biometric locks. They won't be a problem." She frowned. "Unless someone kidnaps Oliver and forces him to open the garage. But if that happens, we'll have more problems than just an intruder."

"So you won't see him until you're in the bunker tonight?" Lyla asked.

"I can text him," Felicity said. "Maybe we can meet someplace low-key for lunch." She paused. "To talk about our villains, at least."

"ARGUS has a private conference room," Lyla said. "It wouldn't be that strange for the mayor to visit a major Federal office building in his city. And you're an important contractor. Nobody would be surprised to see you there."

"You're the best, Lyla," Felicity said. "Thank you."

*

The appointment said "planning," nothing else, but the address was for the ARGUS office. Oliver didn't ask his assistant for an explanation. He just packed up a briefcase, went out to his car, and drove across town.

He expected to see Lyla in the conference room. But Felicity was a surprise.

"Hey," Oliver said tentatively.

"I'll leave you two alone," Lyla said. "There's no surveillance in this room. Not even from me."

Felicity waited for the door to close. "We need to talk about how to deal with our villains," she said. "Especially given that one of them knows that we're married."

"Are we, still?" Oliver asked carefully.

Felicity nodded. "Not that we're perfect," she said. "But Lyla reminded me that even she and John have their issues."

Oliver nodded.

"Ok, then." Felicity looked flustered. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about." She pulled out her laptop and opened it.

Oliver walked around to the other side of the conference table, where he could see her screen. And smell her shampoo, though he tried not to think about that. It had been months since he had slept without that scent surrounding him.

"I pulled the records of all the cases that Adrian Chase has prosecuted since he became District Attorney," she said. "And I cross-referenced them with accidental deaths."

Oliver counted. He stopped when he got past thirty. "Wow."

"Yeah," Felicity said. "And that doesn't count the two women who complained about harassment in the police department. Which leads us to..." She pulled up another group of files. "All of the HR records from the police department in the past year. I'm still sifting through them. It turns out that nobody ever used 'sexual harassment' as a keyword."

Oliver nodded slowly. "So where does that leave us?"

"Well, at least I got the files before they could erase them," Felicity said. "Which they haven't tried yet. So maybe the DA isn't actually collaborating with the police department to harass and murder women. But I can't figure out what he's going to do next. Or how to stop him."

"I should check on Susan Williams," Oliver said. "Especially since she was working on the sexual harassment story. And she might have thoughts about how Adrian triggered her cardiac arrest, or how he knew the EMTs were at her place."

Felicity nodded. "I should have thought of that," she said. "I mean, it's my fault that she's in the hospital in the first place."

"Your fault?" Oliver frowned. 

"It was my idea to have her talk to Adrian Chase," Felicity said.

"And I agreed to pretend to date her," Oliver said. "And Adrian kidnapped her because he thought I would give him advice on how to be a serial killer."

Felicity looked up at him, amused. "Look at you, being all reasonable about guilt."

Oliver ducked his head and smiled.

Felicity seemed about to say something else, but turned back to her screen instead. "We haven't talked about Alena yet." She shook her head. "She's like a ghost. I can't figure out where she went after she left the factory – she wipes cameras, and she doesn't leave any digital tracks. And besides..." She closed her laptop with a sigh. "...what will we do if we catch her?"

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked.

"The police department wasn't taking the bombings seriously, even before we found out about the sexual harassment and about Adrian Chase's _inspiration_." Felicity shuddered. "I want justice for Billy Malone, and for all the girls whose birth control failed last summer. But I don't want to turn Alena over to Adrian Chase, or to a corrupt police department."

"What about ARGUS?" Oliver asked.

Felicity shook her head. "Lyla's on a shorter leash these days. We've got to deal with our bad guys – and bad girls..."

"Villains," Oliver suggested.

"Right. Villains." Felicity nodded decisively. "We've got to take care of them ourselves. And I don't know how."

Oliver nodded slowly. Every movement brought his face closer to Felicity's hair. "What do you think about bringing in the team?" he asked.

Felicity leaned back. "I don't know. Maybe?" She turned her head, and looked surprised at how close his face was to hers.

Oliver started to pull back and give her space. She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his head and pulled it towards hers.

He stopped before their lips met. "Are you sure about this?"

"No surveillance," Felicity said, and pulled him into a kiss.

Oliver leaned in and closed his eyes, smelling Felicity's hair, imagining that they were in his bedroom, or her bedroom, or any quiet, peaceful place where they could curl up together.

His eyes popped open when she started undoing his belt. "The ARGUS conference room?" he asked.

Felicity looked at him. "No surveillance," she said.

Oliver had had plenty of experience with sex in unusual places. Showers. Back seats of cars. Broom closets in restaurants. And, yes, he knew how to have sex in a suit and tie and walk out like nothing had happened. But these days, he preferred wrapping up in a blanket and falling asleep with his head nuzzled into the back of Felicity's neck.

But he was hardly going to turn down sex with Felicity. Even in the ARGUS conference room.

When they were done, Felicity looked at him, bright-eyed but... guilty?

"Don't tell anyone we did this," she said.

Oliver just nodded. "Nobody needs to know where we have sex," he said. That rule went back to Bali and the Amalfi coast, where they had snuck away into hidden doorways or tiny closets, just for the spontaneous thrill of it all. "But the team was worried last night. We should let them know we're still together." He tried not to sound too hopeful.

Felicity nodded, but then wrinkled her nose. "Curtis will never let me live this down."

"He might accept a wedding invitation," Oliver said.

Felicity shook her head. "He would want us to act out every single wedding scene from every rom-com, ever. He won't be happy until we're a walking cliché. Or – worse – a dancing cliché." 

"He'll learn to live with it. And so will Thea." Oliver kissed her head. "And so will everyone else. Including your mother."

"My mother." Felicity sighed. "Oliver, I know the team knows about us... but please, let's not tell my mother. Not yet."

Oliver frowned. "She follows the gossip sites. She'll figure it out."

"We can keep sleeping in the bunker," Felicity said. "We don't need to let the world know. Not yet." She looked up at him. "Please. I know the serial-killing DA knows we're married, and we have to make a plan for how to deal with him. But let's hold onto this for a little while longer."

Oliver blinked. "You like keeping it a secret? I thought you didn't like secrets."

"This is a secret that we share," Felicity said. "It's different."

Oliver wasn't quite sure how, but he decided not to press the issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Anastasia and Marcus in Boston" refers to the villains in "Truths and Consequences."


	27. Four Conversations

Felicity was staring at her screen in the bunker when Dinah walked in.

"We're done," Dinah said. "Your factory is now in the hands of the structural engineers." 

"Was there any evidence?" Felicity asked. "I mean, connecting Alena to the bombing?" 

Dinah shook her head. "There were fragments of the timer, but they melted," she said. "I checked that little computer room for fingerprints, but there's nothing." 

"Of course," Felicity said. 

"We've got witnesses, though," Dinah said. "Us."

"You and Thea were suited up," Felicity said. "And I don't think Lyla – or her bosses – would appreciate the head of ARGUS being questioned."

Dinah shrugged. "We could still make a case, based on your testimony," she said. "I could take a statement from you, and we could bring Alena in." 

Felicity hesitated.

"You don't want to arrest her," Dinah observed. "Why not?"

Felicity looked at her screen, and then at Dinah. "Here. Look at this."

Dinah walked over to the workstation and started to read. "These are SCPD human resources files," she said.

"Sexual harassment complaints," Felicity said. "Not that they're actually called that. Because if you actually put a name on them, you would have to do something about it." She glared at the screen. "Susan Williams told Oliver about an investigation that she had been doing, on why women kept leaving the SCPD. Before the kidnappings, we had found a list of people who had been paid off by the police department. Paid to be silent. Two of them took their cases to Adrian Chase... and they're dead now."

"This is pretty bad," Dinah said, "but everyone involved in this was an employee or a contractor. Alena would be in a jail cell – not in the SCPD offices."

"I've been digging through information about women who have been arrested," Felicity replied. "Female suspects and witnesses, too. It's even worse." Felicity opened another file. 

It was a video of a traffic stop. There wasn't any sound – the camera must have been mounted inside the police car – but the body language told most of the story. The cop standing too close to the woman. The woman pulling back, trying to keep her distance. Some words exchanged, and then handcuffs and the cop's hand on the woman's ass.

The camera went dark before the end of the encounter.

"Wow," Dinah said. "How many of these are there?"

"I'm writing an algorithm to search for patterns. But at least dozens. Maybe hundreds." Felicity shook her head. "What Alena did was bad. But no woman deserves _that._ No matter what she has done."

Dinah nodded. "And even if the cops didn't grope her – or worse – Alena would have to face Adrian Chase."

"Exactly," Felicity said. "And we don't know how Adrian killed his victims, so we don't have any idea how to stop him."

Dinah looked back at the police files that were open on Felicity's computer. "Right. I don't know what to do about Adrian Chase. But maybe I can do something about my department."

*

Oliver signed his last bit of paperwork for the day, then looked up to see Thea staring down at him.

"Your assistant was getting ready to go," she said. "I said I could just let myself in."

"That's fine," Oliver said. "I'm done, too."

"Great," Thea replied. "Let's go."

"Go... where?" Oliver frowned. 

"To see the wedding planner." Thea gave an innocent shrug.

"You made an appointment with a wedding planner." Oliver shook his head. "Thea..."

"No appointment. They do walk-in consulting," Thea said. "But it's obvious that the two of you need help. You've got a lot going on in your lives. Mayor. Business owner." She glanced around. "And, you know." 

"Thea..." Oliver started. 

"So clearly you just need someone to take care of these kinds of things for you," she continued. "And I may plan a fabulous party, but I've never handled a wedding – or renewal of vows, or whatever you're going to call it. Sometimes you need a professional."

"Thea," Oliver said. "I am not going to visit a wedding planner with you."

"You want to call Felicity and make sure she can come along?" Thea asked. "Of course you do. I should have realized that an interfaith wedding would be even more complicated to plan than normal..."

"SPEEDY!" Oliver took a breath and forced himself not to shout. Or growl. "Felicity doesn't want to tell the whole world that we're married, ok? Not yet."

"I hope that means that you talked to her last night," Thea said. 

"Yes," Oliver said. "And today." 

"So you patched things up. Good." Thea gave him her fiercest look. "And I hope you talked about when, exactly, you're going to get out of this weird limbo. Because I'm not sure a marriage counts, if it's performed by time travelers. When were you married? 1853? 2040?"

"We got married in 2017," Oliver said. "The paperwork is just being filed in the future. But it's backdated."

"Still sounds like a weird kind of limbo to me," Thea said. "Besides, you know you can't _really_ be married to Felicity until her mother knows."

"Thea, look," Oliver said. "We've got other things to deal with right now. We'll talk about ceremonies and parties and everything else eventually."

"When?" Thea insisted.

"When we're ready," Oliver said. "Thea. Back off. Please." He took a breath. "Look. I screwed up yesterday. Felicity trusted me to keep a secret, and I told it to a serial killer instead."

"She isn't holding that against you, is she?" Thea frowned. "I think being kidnapped and tortured ought to earn you a pass. Sometimes."

"She understands that," Oliver said. "It just... dredged up some other issues. I think. I'm not sure. All I know is that Felicity needs time, and space... and evidence. She usually needs evidence."

"Evidence?" Thea wrinkled her nose. "What, evidence that you love her? Or won't go running off with every reporter bitch you meet?"

"No," Oliver said. "And knock off the snark about Susan Williams, Speedy. Felicity knew about the leads that I was working on."

"Then what evidence does Felicity need?" Thea asked.

"Evidence that I'll do the right thing... without needing her to tell me what to do every time," Oliver replied. "That I'll be honest with her. That I'll listen to her. That she can trust me." 

Thea sighed. "See, every time you say things like that, I think that you might actually be the couple that's going to last. So just... make it official. In our timeline."

"Speedy, this is between Felicity and me," Oliver said. "Why do you care so much?"

"I want you to be happy," Thea said. "You might be my idiot brother, but I still love you."

"But I am happy," Oliver insisted. "I don't need a big public event. All I need is Felicity. And if she doesn't want one..." He shrugged. "That's fine with me." 

"But weddings aren't just for the two of you," Thea argued. "They're for your friends. Your family."

Oliver sighed. "And Felicity's mother would want a big public wedding. But I don't want to take sides in that argument."

"I'm not talking about Donna," Thea said. "I'm talking about our family." She took a breath. "Me. I'm talking about me."

Oliver decided to shut up and listen this time.

"Dad died, a long time ago. I thought you died, too. Tommy and Laurel treated me like their little sister, but they're both dead now, too. Mom died. Walter left. All I've got is you." She paused. "Well, and Malcolm. But his idea of being a father included drugging me, controlling my mind, and making me kill Sara Lance."

Oliver nodded.

"You and Felicity... you're like everything that I wish that Mom and Dad had been." She shrugged. "And if an idiot like you can end up with someone as awesome as Felicity, there's hope for everyone else in this world."

Oliver completely agreed, but he thought he heard something more behind her words. "Do you want to go back to Hub City with Roy?"

Thea shook her head. "I attract too much gossip on social media," she said. "I would have blown his cover if I had stayed. And... I missed my home. And my family... my brother." Her shoulders fell.

"I'm sorry..." Oliver started.

"You can make it up to me by giving me a real family. A healthy family. For once." She crossed her arms.

Oliver nodded. "We'll do our best." He pulled her into a hug. "Speedy." He leaned back and looked down at her. "I don't know much about healthy families, you know. And neither does Felicity. So we need to work our way through things. Slowly. And carefully. So please... be patient with us." 

*

The elevator opened, and John stepped out.

"Hi!" Felicity said. "Thanks for watching the factory while Dinah searched for clues."

"I'm happy to do it," John said. He walked across the room and leaned on the conference table. "I just wish you had asked for help earlier."

"I know," Felicity said. "It was stupid to try to catch the bomber without the team. It's just..."

"It's just that you and Oliver didn't want to tell me that you were married." John didn't sound angry. He sounded disappointed. Which was worse. 

Felicity felt small. "John..."

"Lyla told me that you were setting a trap for the bomber," John said. 

"We thought it would be easier to set the trap if nobody knew," Felicity said.

"And you didn't think I could keep the secret?" John asked. "Felicity, I've been keeping Oliver Queen's secrets for more than six years."

"It's not that..." Felicity protested. "John, we know we can trust you."

"But not with this," John said. "You didn't tell me. Even when things started going south. Even when you couldn't catch the bomber, and started getting help from Detective Malone and Susan Williams." 

"I'm sorry," Felicity said, then paused for a moment. "If it helps, I can tell you the story now."

John shrugged. "Lyla told me most of it already." 

Felicity looked sheepish. "Please don't be mad at her..."

John sighed. "We'll work it out. We always do." 

"What can I do to help?" Felicity asked. "What can I do to make this better?"

John shook his head. "Just don't try to do all of this alone," he said. 

"By _this_ , you mean dealing with Alena?" Felicity asked.

"And Adrian Chase, yes," John replied. "But everything else, too. Life. Being married. When I asked Oliver to be my best man, I wasn't just talking about showing up for the photos."

"Which he missed," Felicity reminisced.

John chuckled. "Exactly. I was asking him to have my back – not just in the field, but in life. And I want both of you to know that I would have your backs, too."

Felicity launched herself at him. John caught her in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

"And if you ever exchange rings, I'll hold on to them at the ceremony," he said. 

"Because Oliver might lose them?" Felicity joked.

John chuckled again. "I don't think Oliver would ever lose them," he said. "I suspect he's had them hidden somewhere in the bunker, or his apartment, for a year and a half. No. I want to show both of you that I will be there for you. Both of you. Always."

Felicity nodded. Her cheeks were wet. "Thank you, John." She looked up at him and took a breath. "I do have something you could do for me," she said. "Nothing to do with weddings, though."

"Anything you need," he said.

Felicity extricated herself from the hug, and picked up an envelope by her computer. "This should probably be hand-delivered," she said. "By someone who is hard to attack. Multiple someones, probably."

"What is it?" John asked.

"A termination notice for Alena," Felicity said. "I'm firing her. And I'm not letting her back into this building." 

*

Oliver stopped at the hospital before heading to the bunker.

"It's so nice to have a mayor who really cares about his constituents," the nurse said as she led Oliver into Susan's room.

Oliver smiled politely. "Just keeping a positive relationship with the press," he said. "Thank you." 

He waited until she was gone, then shut the door.

"New cover story?" Susan asked. 

"I'm terrible at cover stories," Oliver shrugged. "How are you?"

"I should ask you the same thing," Susan said. "The last thing you said to me was _run_."

"I'm fine," Oliver said. "Sorry to have sent you to interview a serial killer, though."

"Serial killer?" Susan said. "Two apparently unrelated deaths and a kidnapping make a serial killer?"

"There were others," Oliver said shortly. "We're looking into the evidence, but we haven't figured out exactly how Adrian killed people." He frowned down at her. "And he claimed that he could cause your cardiac arrest. From a distance." 

"Huh," Susan said.

"Did he do anything that could possibly have caused your heart to stop? Given you some kind of delayed-reaction drug or something?" Oliver asked. "With a syringe, or some kind of a skin patch...?"

"He didn't use a syringe on me," she said. "He could have had something on his hands when he tied me up."

Oliver nodded. "Did you notice anything fall off of your skin?"

"Other than the ropes?" she asked. "No."

"Was there anyone at your apartment? Anyone who could have given you something?" Oliver pressed. "Maybe he has an accomplice."

"Nobody that I noticed. Just your strange friend in the hockey mask, two rats in the alley, a cockroach, and a few mosquitoes," Susan said. "It's not a great apartment. I keep looking for a better place."

"Ok," Oliver said. "Sorry to push you like that. We just don't understand how he's been killing people. And if we don't understand it, we can't stop it." He stood, ready to leave.

Susan pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Aren't you going to ask about the rest of it? About the lighter-fluid boys?"

Oliver frowned. He had forgotten about them. "Go ahead."

"Not that I learned much," Susan said. "Chase was interested in knowing why I was digging into the story, but he didn't have much to say about the bombings."

"That's ok," Oliver said. "We've got another lead."

Susan nodded. "I should dig for more, but I'm inclined to let this one go."

"I think that would be wise," Oliver agreed. "I'm sure you've got other stories to tell."

"There are always other stories," Susan agreed. 

Oliver stood. "I hope you're feeling better soon," he said. "Keep clear of Adrian Chase."

"I'm a reporter," Susan said. 

"Then stay safe," Oliver amended.


	28. Sleeping Arrangements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might have crossed the line from "mature" to "explicit." There's a scene involving more explicit references to body parts, but it involves undressing and foreplay. It still fades to black before the conventional sex.
> 
> If you don't want borderline explicit: stop reading after the first section break. If you like sappy stuff, the short bit after the final section break might be enjoyable, too.
> 
> There isn't much plot between the two breaks. I'll summarize it in the end notes.

"There he is," Rene said as Oliver came up the stairs from the garage. 

"You can kiss him hello," Curtis added.

Oliver looked sheepishly at Felicity. "Has this been going on all day?"

"No," Felicity said. "Mostly because Curtis spent all afternoon with the structural engineers, and Rene helped John deliver a letter to Alena."

Oliver looked around. "Where's John?"

"He and Lyla are spending some quality time with Princess Tadpole," Curtis said.

"Sara was acting up today at daycare," Felicity elaborated. "He and Lyla were worried that she was upset after the babysitter."

"And the fighting," Rene added. "Kids hate that."

"And the sugared cereals," Dinah finished. "John was pretty worried about the sugared cereals. Or about Lyla's feelings about sugared cereals. It was hard to tell." 

Oliver just nodded. "So Rene and John... delivered a letter to Alena? The bomber?" 

"I fired her," Felicity said. "On official letterhead, even. I realize that she probably should have known that she was fired, given that she tried to kill her boss and destroy her company's factory. But this way, we've got a reason to keep her out of the building."

"I still think it would have been easier to just arrest her," Curtis argued. "Especially because John and Rene ended up just delivering it to her post office box. She didn't give a real address on her resume."

"Which would make it hard to arrest her," Felicity pointed out. "We would need to find her, first." 

"We need to clean up the SCPD's problems before we do anything else," Dinah said. "I agree with Felicity on that."

Oliver looked from Dinah to Felicity. 

"I showed Dinah the files that I swiped," Felicity said. "The ones from the SCPD's Human Resources office. She's helping me sort through them." 

"Now I know why I'm the only woman lieutenant in the department." Dinah's tone was dry, but her eyes were angry.

"Is there anything that I should be doing?" Oliver asked. "I'm the mayor, after all, and the police are part of city government."

"Thanks for the offer," Dinah said. "I'll let you know." 

Felicity tried to suppress a smile as she gave Oliver an approving look.

"You really should kiss him," Curtis said to Felicity.

Felicity and Oliver spun to face him.

"You're giving him that _look_ ," Curtis said.

Felicity glared at him. She snuck a glance at Oliver, and realized that he was doing the same thing.

"Umm, Curtis," Rene said, "you might want to back off. I'm the insensitive asshole of the group, and even I can see that both Overwatch and the Green Arrow are thinking about ways that they could torture and kill you." He looked from Oliver to Felicity and back. "I don't think you want an arrow in your leg _and_ to lose your entire life's savings. At least, not all at once."

Felicity shot Rene a look that might have been grateful, or might have been annoyed. But instead of responding, she turned to Oliver. "So that's the update on our end. Alena's free, but fired; the SCPD is going to have to deal with Angry Dinah. What do you know about Adrian Chase?"

"He was at work," Oliver replied. "He said hello to me."

"Smug asshole," Dinah muttered.

"You were right about him being creepy," Oliver said.

Dinah just nodded. 

"I talked to Susan, too," Oliver continued. "She has no idea how Adrian was keeping an eye on her, or how he made her heart stop."

"I've been tracking him with security cameras," Felicity said. "Which means that I know that he buys almond butter and quinoa at the grocery store. But that doesn't give me information about his killings."

"So what do we do about him?" Curtis asked. "If he kills people from a distance using some unknown method, how do we even stop him?" 

"I'll keep hacking his appointment schedule," Felicity offered. "And then track any women who talk to him. And I'll try to figure out who he's in contact with – e-mails, phone calls, texts... everything."

Oliver nodded. "That's a good idea."

"But there's a bigger question," Rene said. "What are we gonna do about the criminals that we catch? We're passing them on to a corrupt police department and a serial-killer DA."

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know."

"Can't ARGUS just..." Curtis started. 

"No," Oliver and Felicity said in chorus.

They looked at each other, and then Felicity continued. "Lyla can't help us with this," she said. "She's gotten enough grief at work for the things she's done for us already."

"We need to clean up the SCPD," Dinah said. "As fast as possible." 

Rene shrugged his agreement. "Don't know how we can do it down here, though." He glanced at the computer screen. "Other than Blondie's hacking."

"The work that Dinah's doing, reading through all the files, is more important than the hacking," Felicity said. "She knows the people involved, and notices things that a keyword search doesn't find." 

"I know _some_ of the people involved," Dinah corrected her. "A lot of these women have left the SCPD."

"But you know the perpetrators," Curtis said. 

"Oh, yes," Dinah confirmed. "I certainly do." 

"So are you gonna stay down here all night working on it?" Rene asked.

Dinah shook her head. "Felicity gave me an encrypted copy of the files." 

"Keyed to Dinah's fingerprints," Felicity said. "Your tech, Curtis." 

"And that means that I can take the files home," Dinah finished. "Though whether I'll sleep is another matter."

Felicity looked expectantly at Curtis and Rene.

"What's that look?" Curtis asked. "You're trying to say something with that look." He glanced at Oliver. "You're both trying to say something." 

"They're saying they want us to leave," Rene said.

"Wait," Curtis said. "Have you two been sleeping down here?" 

Felicity looked at Oliver. He looked back.

"Are you kidding?" Rene frowned. "But there isn't a bed here, except for that old fold-up thing down in the basement. And there's no way you're sleeping on that. I've been leaving dirty clothes piled on it for weeks, and they haven't been moved."

"You leave your dirty laundry in the bunker?" Curtis asked. "That's disgusting."

"So if you don't sleep on that bed, where do you sleep?" Rene pressed. 

Dinah didn't say anything, but her eyes wandered towards the workout mats.

Curtis followed her gaze. "Seriously?" 

Oliver and Felicity looked guiltily at one another.

"On the mats?" Rene asked. "Where we were practicing throws and wrestling and stuff?"

"I hope you cleaned the bodily fluids off them," Curtis said. "I am buying an entire case of disinfectant wipes."

"You guys have got to find another place," Rene said. "Seriously. No more sex in the bunker."

Felicity glanced at Dinah.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm with them on this one. You've got two apartments. Two beds. Find someplace other than our mats."

*

Oliver's motorcycle flew through the night. Felicity was wrapped behind him, one of his hooded sweatshirts covering her helmet, hair, and jacket. She had done something with the traffic cameras, too – wiped the images from along their route, but also shut down other cameras, in a random pattern across the city, to avoid raising suspicions.

No, wait. It wasn't a perfectly random pattern. Felicity had muttered something about the math behind power outage patterns while she was coding. Oliver hadn't understood it. But it was still incredibly hot. Felicity – no, his WIFE – doing math that was beyond his comprehension, just to hide their route across the city to his bed.

He was already hard, just thinking about it. 

The motorcycle may have skidded to a more dramatic stop than Oliver intended. But it got them there, to the parking spot in the alley behind Oliver's apartment. Felicity pulled the hood lower around her face, tucked the messenger bag with her laptop and tablet under her arm, and stumbled off the bike.

"I can't get used to the way my legs feel after I ride those things," she said.

"You'll get better with practice," Oliver assured her. He checked to make sure the motorcycle was set for the night, pulled off his helmet, and led the way into the back entrance of his building. 

Felicity kept her hood up until they were inside. Oliver smiled and moved towards her.

"Wait," she said, pulling out her laptop. "What's your wi-fi password? Never mind, I'll figure it out." She tapped a few keys, and text flew across her screen. "Seriously?" She looked at him. "I am going to get you a decent password keeper. But not right now. Because right now, I need to edit a few images. Because of course there are already photos of us on the Internet."

Oliver watched over her shoulder. "Why aren't you just erasing yourself?"

"Someone might have seen us," she said. "So I'm just changing my build, pants, shoe style – enough changes so that it isn't obviously me, and anyone who saw us will replace their memory with these images." She leaned back and frowned at her work. "Hopefully."

"It looks amazing," Oliver murmured.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I live to impress."

"You always impress me," Oliver replied.

She smiled at him again, then looked around the apartment. "At least you have drapes," she said. She pulled the hood back over her head, and started closing them. "I knew there was a reason why your apartment would be better than the loft. Besides the motorcycle parking, I mean."

Oliver just stood and watched her. She moved with the same quick certainty that she had when she coded. Even hidden in his hoodie, she was obviously Felicity.

She pulled the last of the drapes and turned towards him. The hood still shaded her eyes. She walked towards him and flipped the hood off her head.

He stood as still as possible, watching.

She broke into a grin. "I've been wanting to do that," she said. "You've got the hood-removal down to a science. You know that?"

Oliver grinned back.

"How do you always manage it in one motion like that?" She moved towards him. "I remember the first time I saw you take off your hood."

"In the back seat of your Mini," Oliver remembered. 

"I think that's the moment that I fell for you," Felicity said. "Even though the eyeblack wasn't very attractive. I like the mask better."

Oliver chuckled. "I thought it was the blood that wasn't attractive."

"Well, that, too," Felicity agreed. "I was not a fan of the blood. Though in the end, I was more worried about you dying than anything else." 

Oliver nodded. "You saved my life," he said.

"You're being overdramatic," Felicity replied. "And also, a lot of people have saved your life over the years."

Oliver shrugged. "That's true." He eyed her, standing in the half-light of the darkened apartment, wearing his sweatshirt as a disguise. "But you're the only one I want to sleep with."

Felicity smiled slowly. "You just think the sweatshirt is hot."

Oliver looked her over. "Take it off, and I'll compare." 

She looked at him skeptically. 

" _Please_ take it off," Oliver amended.

Felicity grinned back at him, unzipped it, and unceremoniously tossed it across the room. 

Oliver laughed.

"You thought you were getting a strip-tease?" Felicity asked. "Not a chance, mister."

"Any way you want to get naked is fine with me," Oliver replied. "I can help. But I would enjoy watching, too."

Felicity pulled off her blouse in one movement, then bent to undo her shoes. "Should have worn something that I could kick across the room," she grumbled. "Though the heels wouldn't have been practical on the motorcycle."

Oliver chuckled.

Felicity pulled her pants off, hopping to get her second leg free. "Ok. You'd better get naked, too. Because your apartment is cold." She shivered. 

"I can turn the heat up," he offered. 

"Take off your clothes," Felicity ordered. "That's the best way to make this place hot."

Oliver complied.

Felicity watched, then nodded in approval. 

"You're still wearing your underwear," Oliver pointed out.

"I was going to let you take it off," she said. "I might even let you try to deal with the bra this time."

Oliver moved slowly, first running his fingers down her straps, then along the cups until her nipples hardened. 

"You could go faster than that," she muttered.

"Don't want to mess it up," Oliver whispered into her ear. He slid his fingers under the band, then followed it around to the back. "If you spin around, it will be easier to see."

"You can spin me," she whispered back. Her voice was hoarse.

Oliver turned her, still moving slowly, still keeping one finger beneath the band of her bra. He pressed against her back, letting her feel his cock against her still-clothed ass. "I wouldn't want to rush things," he murmured.

She ground back against him, impatient. "Just take off my damn bra, Oliver." 

"As you wish," he whispered, and unhooked it.

She pushed back against him as he slid his arms around her, pushing the bra off of her breasts, brushing her nipples ever so lightly as his hands went by. "Was that a deliberate _Princess Bride_ reference?" she gasped. 

He chuckled. 

"Oh, if you are going to start repeating my favorite movies back to me while having sex, this could be really fun." She sounded a bit out of breath.

"I don't remember enough lines," he confessed. He kissed a line along her shoulders, lifting her hair as he nibbled on the back of her neck. "Maybe someday we can watch them together. In bed."

"Mmm." Felicity pushed back against him again, then stopped. "I still have my panties on."

"I know." Oliver thrust against her one more time, then slid his hands down her chest until he reached her waistband. He stopped for a moment, then slid a hand down further. 

"Oh, frak, Oliver, you know I'm wet. You don't need to test it," Felicity complained.

"Never know when things might change," he whispered, and pushed the panties down. 

Felicity moaned in relief and pressed her naked ass back against his cock. But then she pulled away, turned, and looked back at him. "So. Hotter like this, or in the sweatshirt?" 

Oliver tried to remember the earlier conversation. "Umm. Either. Both."

She grinned at him. "Let me find it again, so you can compare." 

The hoodie was behind the couch. She bent over to pick it up, then disappeared into the shadows. When she stood, she was wearing it again. It hung loosely on her shoulders, open, revealing part of her breasts. The back of the sweatshirt reached halfway down her ass.

She pulled the hood back up. "What do you think?" 

Oh, fuck. "You're right. That's pretty hot," Oliver said. 

She nodded. "I'll keep it on, then." She turned and walked toward his bedroom. "You coming?"

He watched the sweatshirt sway above the curve of her ass, and hoped he wouldn't come before she did this time.

She looked over her shoulder. He couldn't see anything more than the amused smile in the shadows of his hood.

He nodded and followed her. 

*

Felicity lay back, hood finally off. Oliver played with a strand of her hair that was spread across the bed.

"So, what do you think of sex with a mysterious hooded woman?" she teased.

Oliver huffed a laugh. "I think I've worn that hoodie too much for it to be mysterious," he said.

"Really?" she asked, sitting up. She pulled the hood back over her head. "You have failed... no, wait. You have most definitely NOT failed this orgasm. These orgasms. Whatever."

Oliver laughed out loud.

"That was supposed to be threatening," Felicity grumbled, but then smiled at him.

He just lay back and looked at her. "I think it's hot when you're enjoying yourself," he said.

She snuggled against his shoulder, pulling his hoodie back around her.

Oliver pulled up the blankets and fell asleep with his nose pressed into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot point from the middle section (the kinda sex scene): Felicity rode on Oliver's motorcycle, with Oliver, to Oliver's apartment, disguised in his hoodie. After they got there, she edited any online photos to change her build and clothes, to make it harder to identify her.


	29. Witnesses

Dinah brought coffee, as well as cinnamon rolls, when she stopped at Felicity's office to drop off the flash drive with the SCPD files.

"You read them all?" Felicity looked at the dark circles beneath Dinah's eyes. "OMG, you read them all."

Dinah nodded. "Once I started, I couldn't sleep. I actually saw one of these happening, and I didn't realize it. It was just a couple comments – I brushed them off as jokes. I had no idea that Ella had been dealing with those kinds of comments for months. Or that she finally quit when she said something back, and was denied a promotion."

"Wait. You're a witness?" Felicity asked. 

"I am," Dinah said. "I can't believe I was there, and didn't do anything to stop this."

Felicity turned to her computer and typed a few commands.

Dinah looked over her shoulder. "I have no idea what those mean."

"They mean that I'm hacking the hospital computer system," she said. "It shouldn't take long. I break into this one all the time." 

Dinah frowned at the line of text. "Records of patients that have been admitted and released?"

"And scheduled to be released." Felicity pointed to one. "Susan Williams. She should be released this morning. She's the one who gave us the tip about the SCPD's issues – well, gave Oliver the tip, at least. She had been working on a story about women leaving the police force, but she couldn't find anyone to interview." She tilted her head and looked up at Dinah. "How do you feel about going on camera?"

Dinah shrugged. "Someone needs to do it."

Felicity nodded. "I'll ask Oliver for Susan's number," she said. "What's your schedule like today?"

"I'm off early this afternoon," Dinah said. "Makes up for my shift on Sunday."

"Great," Felicity said. "I'll text you and let you know where to meet."

Dinah picked up her coffee cup and got ready to go. "Do you want to keep the cinnamon rolls?"

Felicity frowned at them. "I'll take that one, but there are flies on the other." She picked it up gingerly. "Ugh. I'll take it to the dumpster outside."

*

Susan looked a little pale, but determined. Felicity took a seat across from her in the cafe at the back of the bookstore.

"Susan Williams," she said, holding out her hand. "You're Felicity Smoak."

"I am," Felicity confirmed. "Lieutenant Drake should be here soon. You've met her already, right? The other night."

Susan nodded. "She did the talking to the EMTs," she said. "I assume that she's another one of Oliver's friends."

Felicity nodded. "Thanks for not asking about the rest of the details," she said. 

"I'm not here to write a gossip column," Susan said. "You're helping me break a story that I've been working on for a long time. So thank you."

Felicity dug into her messenger bag and pulled out a USB drive. "Hold out your right index finger," she said.

Susan did, and Felicity touched it with the drive. 

"It's keyed to your fingerprint now," Felicity explained. "Nobody else will be able to look at it."

"Unless they hold a gun to my head," Susan said. 

"Well, sure," Felicity said. "But we'll try to keep that from happening." She looked up to see Dinah walking towards their table.

"Sorry I'm late," Dinah said. "I didn't want to speed while I was off duty. Especially under the circumstances." She looked at the USB drive in Susan's hand. "Good. You've got the evidence." 

"It will help," Susan said. "But I work in television. I need a face to go with the story."

Dinah nodded. "That's why I'm here." 

"You've been harassed?" Susan asked. 

Dinah paused. "I'm a witness to one of the complaints. As for what I've experienced.... Not much. Just tasteless jokes, comments about my clothes... Lots of women went through worse."

Susan shook her head. "There's no _not much_ in this," she said. "Just because you're still employed doesn't mean you weren't affected by things. There's a pattern in the SCPD, going back years."

"I mean, I wasn't raped," Dinah said. 

Susan paused. "Someone was raped?"

"I'm not 100% certain," Dinah said. "But I started asking questions today. I heard some rumors and whispers. That's all."

Susan made a few notes on her tablet.

"Wait a second," Felicity said. She typed a few commands on her phone. "There. I just installed something to keep people from hacking your tablet over the public wi-fi." 

"They can do that?" Susan frowned.

"They can do a lot of things," Felicity said.

"Back to Lt. Drake's comment... I can't bring a rape accusation without a name." Susan sounded apologetic. "But I can talk about problems with retaining women."

"And the payments?" Felicity asked.

Susan paused. "Is there anyone who was offered a payment but didn't take it?" she asked. "That would make the best story. Moral high ground, and all."

"I'll search these names," Felicity said. "But the offers that we know about came through the mail." 

"I'll ask some people about the payments," Dinah offered. "I know a few of the women who left."

"We could bring up the women who were killed," Felicity suggested.

Susan nodded. "We might have to," she said.

"So what's the timeline on this?" Dinah asked. "I don't want to rush the story. But I don't want to let things stay this way for long."

"I've got a piece scheduled for the evening news on Sunday," Susan said. "Two days from now. It was supposed to be a human interest story, but I could substitute this one. The cameraman is a friend; he won't say anything. I'll have to work on the editors." 

"I'll talk to my sources today," Dinah said.

They shook hands.

Felicity looked down at her scone. "Ugh. Flies," she said. "I'm going to put this in the garbage."

*

"Hey," Felicity said to Curtis as she walked into the office and sat down at her workstation.

"Oh, good, you're back," Curtis said. "Look, I've been thinking. And I want to apologize."

Felicity spun in her chair. "Go ahead."

"I'm sorry that I've been pressuring you and Oliver," he said.

Felicity gestured for him to continue.

"I wanted you to be happy – both of you to be happy. And it didn't occur to me that ' _happy_ ' might look different for you than for the ending of a romantic comedy." He paused. "Though you would make such a great movie. Who do you think should play Oliver?"

Felicity shook her head. "You were doing so well, Curtis."

"Sorry. Sorry! I got carried away again. But the main point is..." He took a breath. "Whatever decisions you make in your romantic life, I will support you."

"That was nice," Felicity said. "Thank you."

"I had to practice it a lot," Curtis said.

"I could tell," Felicity replied. "But I appreciate the thought behind it."

"Still partners?" Curtis asked.

"Still partners," Felicity replied. "What's the situation with the factory?"

"No structural damage," Curtis reported. "Which is surprising, because Dinah's cry... well, it's pretty powerful." 

Felicity nodded. "Fortunately she aimed it well. So... what happens now?"

"The clean-up from the first fire was almost done," Curtis said. "It looks like we can bring people back to work sometime next week."

Felicity released a breath that she hadn't realized that she had been holding. "That's great," she said. "Maybe we won't lose that much money from this, after all." 

"Maybe we'll even come out ahead," Curtis said. "We got some inquiries from utilities on the East Coast this week. The fire got us into the news, at least for power companies."

"That's great," Felicity said. "I'd better check the code that Alena wrote. Hopefully it isn't a bunch of malware." She turned back to her computer screen. With the office shut down, she had been using it to search Adrian Chase's financial records while the bunker workstation monitored his phone and e-mail.

"Oh, did you check the mail when you came in?" Curtis asked. "It hadn't arrived yet when I got here."

"No," Felicity said. "Could you get it? I want to finish checking on this search." 

"Sure," Curtis said. "See you in a bit."

Felicity looked through Chase's recent financial transactions. Retirement savings, mortgage on a condo, cell phone bills, car insurance. Two credit cards. A Paypal account. She pulled the last three to get a better sense of what he was buying. Lots of bills from restaurants. Netflix and Amazon Prime. Regular payments to a company called Helix... 

That name wasn't familiar.

She pulled up the financial information for Helix. Not publicly traded. Not a lot online about it at all. Incorporated in New Hampshire. Apparently sold some kind of medical equipment. No corporate board; just an agent, with contact information in Massachusetts.

Huh. She knew that zip code. How many times had she repeated it to her mother over the phone, when her mom wanted to send care packages to MIT?

She dug a bit deeper. Helix had a rudimentary web page, with a few examples of their products, but you had to fill out an online form to request a full catalog. She skimmed through the things that were easily available. Hacking the site to get the full catalog would be a little more involved, so that could wait until... 

She stopped and stared at the page. She knew that device.

There was a very similar one in her back. In her spine. Allowing her to walk.

Ok. So she didn't really have any loyalty to Palmer Tech, given the circumstances of her departure from the company. But as far as she knew, they still controlled the patent for her chip. And if they didn't, Curtis ought to know that someone was selling his tech, even if he couldn't profit from it himself. 

She started hacking the catalog. Guilt-free, because if someone was stealing Curtis's inventions, they shouldn't expect any privacy from Overwatch and Mr. Terrific. But before she finished, Curtis returned.

"Curtis, look at this," Felicity pointed to her screen.

"Just a moment," Curtis said. "You have mail." He handed a registered letter to her.

"Snail mail," Felicity said. "Wow." She tore the envelope open and read the letter.

Curtis finished looking at the Helix web page. "That's your chip. My chip. Our chip." 

Felicity nodded, staring at her letter. 

"Felicity." Curtis waved his hand in front of her face. "Earth to Felicity. What are we going to do about this company that stole my tech? Well, Palmer Tech's tech, to be technical... did I just use ' _tech_ ' too many times in one sentence?" He stopped. "Felicity? What is it?"

"It's a subpoena," she said. "I have to testify at the trial of Dunning and Kruger."

"Who?" Curtis asked.

"Dunning and Kruger," Felicity said. "The incompetent pyromaniacs whose lighter-fluid obsession helped kill Billy Malone." 

*

Oliver stalked down the hall toward Adrian Chase's office. A vaguely familiar dark-haired woman walked past him and did a double-take, then hurried off. Oliver ignored her and remained focused on his target.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Adrian?" Oliver asked.

"You should really shut the door behind you, Mr. Mayor," Adrian said.

Oliver turned, shut the door, and spun back. "You're handling the prosecution of Jeremy Dunning and Jason Kruger."

"I am." Adrian smiled like an alligator. Oliver wished he had noticed that before.

"They confessed. They're handling their own defense. It's the easiest prosecution in the world," Oliver said. "But you still issued a subpoena to Felicity Smoak."

"She's a very important witness," Adrian said. "The fire was in her office. It would be an incredible miscarriage of justice to go to trial without her."

Oliver glared at him, then turned to go.

"Justice is a complicated thing, Oliver," Adrian said to Oliver's back. "I'm sure your wife understands that."

Oliver spun back around, fists tight. 

Adrian raised an eyebrow and smiled. 

Oliver turned and strode out the door.

Dinah ran into him on his way back into his office. "Hi," she said. "I'm glad you're still here."

"What's up?" Oliver asked, forcing himself to at least appear to be calm.

"I stopped by the police department to talk to a friend," she said. "On my way out, I saw someone leaving this floor." 

Oliver frowned. "Who?"

"Alena. Felicity's bomber. Did you see her?" Dinah asked. 

Oliver stared back down the hall. "Dark hair? Glasses?" 

Dinah nodded.

"I did," he said. "She was just talking to Adrian Chase."


	30. Things to Worry About

"So are we trying to figure out how to protect Alena from Chase? Or are we trying to protect ourselves from both of them?" John asked the questions that were on everyone's mind.

Dinah had brought the news back to the bunker. Oliver was still taking the long route – going back to his apartment, making dinner, changing his clothes. But the rest of the team had already gathered to try to make sense of the latest developments. 

"Alena knew that Chase had a creepy past," Felicity said. "But I don't know if she was aware of the creepiest details."

"She wouldn't have gone to see him if she knew he killed people," Curtis said. "Would she?"

"It's hard to say," Dinah said. "Sometimes people think they're the exception." 

"I'm more worried about what Chase is thinking," Rene said. "Is he gonna just kill Alena? Or will he use her to try to kill Felicity?"

"Felicity was looking into Chase's finances," Curtis said. "She might have an answer."

"According to his Paypal account, Adrian Chase sends regular payments to a company that sells miniaturized medical equipment," Felicity started.

"And which stole our designs," Curtis added.

"Technically, they're Palmer Tech's designs," Felicity corrected. "But I can't figure out how any of those devices could be used to murder people from a distance. Maybe they're not related at all. Maybe Chase has a heart condition and is paying for some kind of miniature robot to unclog his arteries. Or something." Felicity shrugged. "It's a shady company, but it's a dead end. So to speak."

"So no leads on _how_ Chase kills people," John said. "Any idea about how he selects his targets? Or more importantly, whether Alena is helping him to go after Felicity?"

"I was starting to hack into his office computer before you all got here. Let me finish..." Felicity typed a few more things. "There. Yes, Adrian Chase does take his official District Attorney notes on a computer that's connected to the Internet. Because the only person in the Star City government who knows anything about computer security is Oliver Queen."

Dinah read over her shoulder. "It doesn't sound like he knows Alena," she said.

Curtis leaned in beside her. "Alena wants to sue us? Seriously?"

Felicity nodded. "Wrongful termination," she said.

"Well, I guess we _were_ retaliating against her when we fired her," Curtis said.

"I think it's ok to retaliate for kidnapping," Rene said. "And for blowing up the company's factory. Twice."

"Yes, but how do we defend against a wrongful termination lawsuit? We would have to admit that we know more about the bombings than the police do. Plus she knows about Dinah and Oliver and Thea, at least," Curtis said.

"We have a couple more weeks before we have to deal with that," Oliver said, walking out of the stairs that led up from the basement garage. "Right now, we need to keep an eye on Alena and stop Adrian Chase from killing anyone else."

"And fix the police department," Felicity added. "Dinah and I have some news on that front, though."

"Susan Williams is going to interview me tomorrow," Dinah said. "And I've found a couple more people who are willing to talk on camera. The segment will air on Sunday night."

Oliver nodded. "That's good," he said. "What else can we do?"

"I've got one idea," Curtis said. "In case Alena and Chase start working together on the whole distance-murder thing. You know how Alena used that hummingbot?" 

Felicity and Dinah nodded. The others shook their heads.

"She had this little robot hummingbird that she designed. It could inject people with things," Curtis explained. "Like the peanut oil that Felicity's allergic to."

"Sounds like a good way to mysteriously kill someone," Rene said.

"But she hadn't met Chase yet when he was killing all those people," Felicity reminded them. "So he couldn't have been using her hummingbot."

"Right," Curtis said. "But now Alena and Chase have met each other. And if they do team up, we need to worry about being attacked by tiny robot birds."

"I assume you have a plan to deal with this?" Oliver asked.

"I have an idea," Curtis said. "I can set up something to detect their control signal..."

Felicity shook her head. "Radio waves," she said. "Wi-fi. We'd never see the them with all other signals here."

"Then something to pick up robots," Curtis said. "They've got to have a specific electrical frequency to fly like that. I'll work on it."

"Whatever it is, figure it out," Oliver said. "Please."

"I can stake out Chase's condo," Rene offered. "I know he does the whole mystery killing thing, but Blondie's tapping his phone and e-mails, so if he's working with someone, he'll have to meet them in person."

"Good idea," Oliver said.

"I would offer to stay near Felicity to make sure that she gets medical attention if anything happens," John said, "but I suspect you've got that covered."

"We won't always be together. Felicity carries an epipen, but maybe you should have one, too," Oliver suggested. "All of you. And John... I know Lyla is keeping an eye on Felicity. Are you two on the same page now?"

John nodded. "We've patched things up," he said. "And this qualifies as _need to know_ in her book, I think."

"Good," Felicity said. "And I'll work on avoiding anything that could mysteriously inject me with allergens, or stop my heart."

Curtis glanced towards the salmon ladder. It was almost worse that he tried to pretend that he hadn't, but Felicity let it go. This time.

*

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked. They were lying in his bed again, snuggled together in a post-coital glow under his blankets. "Are you worried about Adrian and Alena?" 

Felicity sighed. "Yes."

Oliver nodded. "I'm worried, too. I don't know what Adrian is doing, and I don't know how to stop him." _And I don't want him to kill you_. He didn't say the last part out loud.

"I'm actually more worried about the trial," Felicity said. "The Dunning-and-Kruger trial."

Oliver frowned. "You're just a witness. You'll describe the bombing..."

"Except Adrian Chase will be asking the questions," Felicity said. "And I'll be under oath. And I know that Alena set the bombs. And that Dunning and Kruger's first arrest involved death threats against me – and the head of ARGUS told me about it. I mean, just mentioning ARGUS would be a problem. But the worst thing..." She paused and looked at him.

Oliver waited for her to continue.

"You were there. At the factory. When Billy Malone died. And Adrian Chase knows you – the Green Arrow you – were there." She stared at him. "Oliver, what if Adrian tries to blame you for Billy's death? What if he tricks me into giving away your secret?"

Oliver shrugged. "You've been questioned before," he said. "I trust you."

Felicity shook her head. "It's not about trusting me," she said. "I'll be under oath. He's a lawyer, Oliver. A prosecutor. He knows how to trap people in verbal corners. That's what he does for a living." She got more agitated as she continued. "And I know that questions about you would be irrelevant, but Dunning and Kruger are handling their own defense, and it's not like they would raise objections. Even if they knew anything about the law." She took a breath. "And don't tell me that they can't make me testify against you because we're married, because one: you're not the one on trial, and two: nobody knows that we're married."

Oliver waited to see if she was done. She just looked back at him. When she didn't say anything, he reached out a hand and stroked her face.

"We'll find some way to keep that from happening," he said. "It's like you tell me... we always find a way." 

" _You_ always find a way," Felicity corrected him.

" _We_ ," Oliver repeated. "This time, let's make it ' _we_.'"


	31. Exposé

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Liza Warner was never a villain in this AU - she wasn't involved in the events of 4.04. She was just a cop.
> 
> 2) Warning: A character describes being sexually assaulted in this chapter. If you want to avoid reading that section, skip to the end of the chapter after Felicity's phone conversation with Quentin. I'll summarize the key plot points at the end. (To help you decide: the description is much less explicit than things that have been written in the New York Times or Washington Post recently.)

The big exposé was a bit of a let-down. Maybe it was because Felicity already knew everything that Dinah had said, and everything that the other women who were interviewed had said, and everything that Susan Williams was going to say. Maybe it was because the whole team had gathered to watch it, like it was the season premiere of their favorite show. Maybe it was because the entire story had been edited to less than 5 minutes of broadcast time. In any case, Susan's piece was on the air, and then it was done. And they just had to wait to see what happened next.

And what happened was: nothing. At least, not until Monday morning. 

Dinah showed up at Felicity's office with cinnamon rolls. Curtis looked up from his workstation in surprise.

"I should have brought more this time," Dinah said, as Curtis grabbed two of them.

"You've done this before? Why didn't I know?" Curtis said. Or at least, Felicity thought that's what he said. His mouth was full.

"Only since the first factory explosion," Felicity said. "You were busy."

"Yes," Curtis grumbled. "But I would have changed my schedule if you had told me there were _cinnamon rolls_."

Felicity frowned. Schedule. There was something weird about the schedule.

"I know I'm supposed to be at work," Dinah said. 

Ah. That was it. Felicity looked carefully at Dinah.

"The department started an investigation into the allegations that we made on the news last night," Dinah said.

"Oh," Felicity said. "That's good, right?" She frowned at Dinah. "Your face says that it isn't good."

"They put me on administrative leave," Dinah said. "I'm not allowed into the department until the investigation is done." She grimaced. "Hope you don't need any inside information about police business."

"On the up side, the Black Canary is available to take down more bad guys," Curtis said. 

Felicity and Dinah looked at him. 

"Or not. Because maybe that would be really obvious, if the Black Canary suddenly started showing up more often when Dinah Drake was on administrative leave," he admitted. "Fine."

* 

Oliver walked into the press conference blind.

 _That's really fast for an investigation to have results_ , Felicity had texted. _Dinah thinks it's bad news._ Apparently Dinah had spent the day at the bunker, trying to help Felicity predict what Adrian would ask her on the witness stand, and watching the various cameras that Felicity had commandeered to search for Alena. But none of the cameras showed anything. Which left Dinah uncharacteristically stressed out, and Felicity even more worried than she had been over the weekend.

Meanwhile, Oliver had been the public face of the city. He knew people were whispering, because they went silent whenever he approached. But he didn't know what was being said.

So he was surprised when his assistant told him that the police chief had planned a press conference for late in the afternoon.

Of course he was the first one at the mic. He said something bland and toothless – something about how it was important for all city offices to be inclusive spaces, and how Star City was committed to a safe working environment for all its employees.

And then the police chief stepped forward. "As I'm sure you all know, we have recently been made aware of troubling allegations involving members of the police department," he said. "We are currently conducting a thorough internal investigation. The public needs to know that we take these allegations extremely seriously, but that we also need to be fair to the people who have been accused, and that means getting all of the facts. And that will take time. For now: remember than in America, everyone is innocent until proven guilty."

The crowd of reporters began to shout questions at him.

"However," the chief said loudly. "However, we have already identified some acts that were so egregious that we have terminated the perpetrators immediately. The Star City Police Department will not hesitate in taking action to remove employees responsible for corruption and inappropriate behavior."

The press began shouting questions again. Oliver looked around for Susan, but another reporter was standing beside the Channel 52 camera, speaking into a microphone. Oliver stepped to the side, watching and listening, until the reporter was done.

"Mr. Mayor," the reporter said, attempting to brush past Oliver.

"Excuse me," Oliver said. "Is Susan Williams all right? I'm surprised that she isn't here."

The reporter looked at him, as if considering his response to someone who might be a valuable source, or might be the target of his next investigation. "She's been removed from this story," he said. "She's too involved in it. The news director is worried that she's biased. So I'm in charge of covering it for now."

* 

Dinah just shook her head at the news conference.

"Removing people for corruption is good. Isn't it?" Curtis asked.

"Not when they remove the wrong people," Dinah said. "Maria in Accounting? Seriously? She didn't make the decision to send cash to Tonya James. Or to anyone else. Those decisions are above her pay grade. Way above her pay grade."

"What about the guy?" Curtis asked. 

"Second-year cop. Yes, he participated in the jokes. But he was following the lead of everyone above him," Dinah said. 

"You're missing something." John had been watching the press conference with them, and was looking over Felicity's shoulder at the pictures of the people who had been fired. "A bunch of white women accuse the department of sexual harassment. And who do they fire?" He pointed at the screen. "An older Hispanic woman, way down the food chain in Accounting, and a young Black man."

"Technically, I check the box for 'more than one race,' when I fill out forms," Dinah said. "My grandmother's Dominican. But yes. I pass as white. And you've got a point." She shook her head at the screen. "They're not the source of the problem. They're scapegoats." 

"That fast of a response – they're hiding something bigger," John predicted. "Or _someone_ bigger."

"There's so much there already," Felicity said. "What else are they trying to hide?"

There weren't any more clues for several hours. But then Felicity's phone buzzed. She looked at the ID, and walked into a quiet corner of the bunker to answer it. 

"Hi, Quentin!" she said. "Is Mom ok?" 

"Donna's fine," Quentin replied. "Wants you to call her more often. But that's not why I called."

"So...?" Felicity prodded him.

"It's a little complicated," Quentin said. "I got a call from someone that I knew back at the SCPD, wanting help contacting Oliver."

Felicity frowned at her phone. "He's the mayor. Everyone in the SCPD knows where to find him."

"I know," Quentin said. "And if I didn't trust my contact, I would think the whole thing was a little fishy."

"Yes...?" Felicity waited for the story to unfold. 

"My contact has a friend – wouldn't say who it was, just that the friend had talked to Oliver already, once, but didn't know how to reach him. Didn't want to go through the mayor's office. And that friend wants to put _another_ friend in contact with Oliver." Quentin paused. "Told you it was complicated." 

"So you want me to tell Oliver about a possible meeting, and then give you a time and place, and then you'll tell them?" It was the most complicated RSVP system that Felicity had even encountered.

"No," Quentin said. "I've got a time and a place. Oliver just needs to show up." He sighed. "I realize this sounds like a trap. But I trust the people involved. And I know Oliver can take care of himself."

"I'll pass on the word," Felicity said. "And you didn't call Oliver directly because...?"

"Like I said. They want to talk to the mayor. Just didn't want to go through the office," Quentin replied. "And with all that crap going on in the police department these days, I don't exactly blame them."

"Did you know anything?" Felicity asked.

"About payoffs? Nothing." Quentin replied. 

"What about the harassment?" Felicity pressed.

Quentin sighed. "You know, I always told Laurel to stay in school, get her all of her degrees, no matter what else happened. She was always so up in arms about justice. I was afraid she'd want to be a cop, like me. Told myself that she was smart, like her mother, that she could do better for herself than the SCPD. But I think in my heart, I was always worried about what the department did to the girls who worked there." 

"So you knew?" Felicity's heart sunk. She had hoped that Quentin was one of the good ones.

"Not any of the details," he said. "Nothing that ever could have stuck. But now that it's out... yeah, I saw it. Some of it. And I wish I had done something about it while I was there."

Maybe that was the best that she could expect, Felicity thought. "Thanks, Quentin. Tell me the time and place, and I'll pass them on to Oliver."

*

Oliver took the long route to the club where he had been instructed to meet... someone. Felicity said that Quentin had vouched for the person making the arrangements, but Oliver was still hyper-vigilant.

The bouncer checked his ID. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I can't let you in."

That was the expected response. "Really?" Oliver responded. "I'd like to speak to the management."

The bouncer nodded, and pointed towards another entrance. A short figure was guarding that door. 

"I'd like to speak to the management," Oliver repeated.

"You'll need to wait in here," the figure – a woman, this time – said. She opened the door, led him down a hallway, and opened the door to an office.

Tonya James was sitting in one of the chairs. 

Oliver stopped. "I thought you didn't have anything to say," he said.

"I don't," Tonya said. "But she does." She gestured to the woman working security. "I'll be outside if you need me, Liza," she said, and walked out the door.

"Have a seat, Mr. Queen," the woman said.

"You asked to meet with me," Oliver said. "In secret. " 

"I did," she said. "Liza Warner. Formerly with the SCPD. Now working private security." 

Oliver nodded. "I can see that. Did you meet Ms. James while you were with the police department?"

"We've known each other for years," Liza said. "And yes, we were friends in the SCPD."

"So you want to talk to me about her experience there?" Oliver asked.

"No," Liza said. "I want to talk to you about my own." 

Oliver tried to remember the names associated with all the HR files that Felicity had acquired. He didn't remember a Liza Warner in them. 

"You wouldn't find my story going through HR files, or financial records," she said. "I assume that's how you found Tonya."

Oliver tried to look noncommittal.

"They paid off Tonya because she knows my story," Liza said. "And too many others."

Oliver nodded and waited for her to go on. 

"Eight years ago, I was a rookie cop," Liza began. "Fresh out of the police academy. Only Black girl in the group of trainees. My training officer was Chad Stevens."

Oliver nodded. Stevens was the deputy chief now, after working his way quickly through the ranks.

"Stevens was known for guiding his trainees through the system, no matter what their background. I had just gotten my GED and then got my beginning training at the community college, doing night classes, so I didn't know the other rookies very well. Stevens came over and talked to me on my first day. Listened to my concerns. Told me he could help me, that he believed I could do it. Offered to handle my field training." 

That sounded like the man who had been rapidly promoted, Oliver thought.

"On the night that we made my first arrest, he took me out for drinks after we got off duty." Liza hesitated. "I woke up in his apartment. I couldn't find my underwear, so I just pulled on whatever I could find and got out of there." She looked away, then directly at Oliver. "When I got to work the next day, the other girls handed me a morning-after pill. They knew what had happened. I wasn't the first, and I wasn't the last."

Oliver frowned. "You didn't report it...?" 

Liza's laugh was bitter. "He was writing my training report," she said. "I took out loans to get the education that I needed to get that job. It was what I wanted to do." She shook her head. "Of course I didn't report it. Do I seem like an idiot to you?"

Oliver shook his head. He wasn't even sure what questions he could – or should – ask. 

"I finished the training, and moved into a different part of the police force. Stayed away from him. Handed out morning-after pills myself." She shook her head. "Finally, he got promoted. We all thought it would get better, if he wasn't working with trainees. We stopped paying attention." Her lips tightened. "That was a mistake."

"What happened?" Oliver asked.

"He went after girls in other parts of the force. Anyone who came in from another town, who didn't know anyone. Or girls who barely got hired. You remember Carrie Cutter?"

Oliver nodded.

"She failed her psych eval, but he pushed the department to hire her anyway. From that moment, she practically had a target on her ass."

Oliver frowned. "I thought she left the force because she was obsessed with one of the other officers."

Liza rolled her eyes. "Are you really that stupid, Mr. Queen?" She shook her head at him. "Stevens and his buddies started that rumor after she began telling people what happened. It was a smear campaign. Guess it worked."

"And he's still doing this?" Oliver asked. "Targeting new recruits? Is that why the department has been paying women to be silent?"

"That's part of it," Liza said. "But it got worse. I told you, we stopped paying attention. Weren't handing out morning-after pills any more." She shook her head. "One of the girls got pregnant." She paused. "And she decided to keep the baby." 

"Tonya?" Oliver asked. She had mentioned a kid in another room, when his alter ego had visited her.

"No," Liza said. "Tonya had a kid already when she joined the force. She was one of the lucky ones - she just got her ass grabbed. This other girl... she thought having a baby would change things. She was going to sue him for child support."

Oliver froze. "And she talked to the District Attorney."

"Yeah," Liza said. 

"And now she's dead." Oliver nodded grimly. 

Liza looked surprised. "How did you know?"

Oliver shook his head. "Never mind. So then what happened?"

"Girls started talking," Liza said. "Warning each other. And then we started getting comments in our evals. Anyone who talked got labeled as _difficult_. A couple put their heads down and tried to stay out of it. But most of us gave up." She shook her head. "I loved police work. But not enough to take that shit." 

"Do you know why some women were bribed to stay quiet?" Oliver asked. "And who made the decision?"

"That reporter was sniffing around," Liza said. "And some of the people who knew the stories were hard to smear. Or didn't even work in the department – just got to know the cops, like that dog-training lady. Or they were new, and filed reports right away."

Oliver frowned. "That answers ' _why_ ,'" he said. "But not ' _who_.'" 

"I don't know _who_ ," Liza replied. "Maybe it was Stevens. But the other guys were all protecting him. Signing off on the evaluations, spreading the rumors..." She shook her head. "Everyone liked Stevens. They thought the pregnant girl was just trying to trap him into marriage – that she wanted it, and just cried rape when he dumped her."

Oliver nodded. "So what can I do? If you all tell your stories, I can probably find a way to fire him, or get him reassigned."

Liza shook her head at him. "You don't get it, do you." It wasn't a question. "Getting rid of him wouldn't really change things. They're grooming him to be the next chief because they like him, like what he does. At most, they'll find some way to let him go quietly, worried that he'll sue them, and find someone who's like him – without the inconvenient sex scandals - to take his place. Maybe they'll quietly fire all the girls, make sure none of us works in this city every again, no matter what they do with him. They don't appreciate cops who rat out other cops. And lady cops who tell stories on the men?" She glared at him. "Nobody is going to believe us. Nobody."

"There's got to be something I can do," Oliver said.

Liza rolled her eyes at him. "You're the mayor," she said. "Figure something out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of the key plot points in the last section: Liza Warner tells Oliver that the deputy chief of police has a history of assaulting women in the department, going back to when he supervised training of rookie cops. (Carrie Cutter was one of them; her reputation for obsession with a male cop was actually a smear campaign after she told people about it.) The last victim ended up pregnant and went to Adrian Chase for legal help, and now she's dead. The pay-offs were an attempt to keep the assaults secret. Warner doesn't know who authorized the payments.
> 
> Oliver is left with the challenge of what to do, given that he's the mayor.


	32. Responsibility

Oliver sat in the bunker's armory, sharpening his arrows. Every now and then, he would stop, pick up a notebook, and write down a name. Some of them had question marks beside them. He looked up at the sound of footsteps.

"Hey," Felicity said. "I'm ready to go whenever you are. Everyone else has gone home for the night."

Oliver nodded. "Just let me pick up these things, and I can leave."

Felicity hesitated at the door. "I know you said that the meeting – whatever it was – was something that you can't share. But I haven't seen you think this hard in almost a year." She nodded at the pile of arrows.

"I'll bounce some ideas off of you soon," Oliver said. "Tomorrow, probably. I just need to think about what I can say, first."

*

Oliver had several huge binders full of information about what a mayor could – and could not – do. Some of them had been in the office when he arrived. Some of them were the work of Felicity, Lyla, and Curtis, who had watched him flail helplessly through his first few months on the job.

And now they were useful.

Star City had a fairly powerful city council. But according to the city charter, the mayor had the ability to hire – or fire – the police chief. And the deputy chief.

It hadn't been done in recent memory. And although other cities had put their police departments under civilian oversight, it wasn't entirely clear whether it could be done in Star City.

Oliver frowned and made a few more notes. He had spent a lifetime just doing things and figuring out the consequences later on. Might as well continue the pattern.

*

Dinah glanced around. "How did you get the guys to leave the bunker?" It was early evening, the time when the men of Team Arrow usually did their workouts. 

"I told John that I needed to have a conversation with you and Felicity, about city business," Oliver said. "When John says it's time to go out on patrol, Rene and Curtis don't argue. Much."

"So...?" Felicity looked at him expectantly. "Is this about that meeting last night? The one that Quentin helped set up?"

Oliver nodded. "The situation in the police department is worse than I realized."

Dinah and Felicity shared a glance. "Was this about the dashcam videos?" Felicity asked.

Oliver frowned. "No. What dashcam videos?" 

"Videos of officers feeling up women that they've arrested," Felicity replied.

"Or worse," Dinah added. "The videos always cut out."

Oliver shook his head. "I didn't know about those," he said. "But that information makes me even more sure that I'm making the right decision."

"What decision?" Felicity asked. "Oliver, what are you doing...?"

"I'm going to fire the police chief," he said. "The deputy chief, too. And put the SCPD under civilian oversight." 

Dinah and Felicity just stared at him for a few moments.

"Well, that will make everything that Felicity, Susan, and I have done seem tame by comparison," Dinah finally said.

"Yeah," Felicity agreed. "The mayor - who moonlights as a vigilante, by the way, in case you forgot that part - removing the head of law enforcement and replacing him with the mayor's people? Are you even allowed to do that?"

Oliver nodded. "I went through the binders," he said. "According to the city charter, the mayor is supposed to hire the chief of police."

"And the city council doesn't have any say?" Dinah asked.

"That section of the city charter pre-dates the current rules for the council," Oliver said. "Especially the parts that were amended in the past few years."

"Which is when the mayors kept dying," Felicity said. "And also were hiring friends from their favorite organized crime syndicates into the city bureaucracy. So, wait, you could have hired someone from the Bratva to be the chief of police?"

"Apparently," Oliver said. "Good thing Anatoly isn't the type to read the fine print in the city charter."

"Or maybe the rules have changed, and you didn't see it," Felicity said.

"I went through the amendments several times," Oliver said. "But you've got them electronically, right? Do a search if you don't believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you, Oliver," Felicity said. "It's just that those binders aren't the most gripping reading in the world. And you've admitted – several times – that you only ever read one book in college."

"I've gotten more responsible since then," Oliver said. "I hope. But... I would appreciate it if you would double-check the city charter for me. If you're willing." 

Felicity nodded. "I'll do it."

"Thank you," Oliver said.

"Do you have any plans for putting someone in charge?" Dinah asked. "Civilian control sounds great in theory, but there's a lot more stuff that goes on in the police department than anyone realizes."

"Please don't say that Team Arrow will do it all," Felicity said. "We've got day jobs. Plus – and this is speaking as Overwatch – even given our current corrupt police department and serial-killer DA, I don't want us to go back to being the judge, jury, and executioner. I like making use of the courts. Or at least, I did until recently."

Oliver nodded. "I've been making a list of possible candidates," he said, pulling out his notebook.

Felicity looked amused. "A list. You and lists."

Oliver shrugged in acknowledgment. "I'm thinking of asking Captain Singh from the Central City Police Department to step in and help lead," he said. "I talked to Barry, and he was going to get Joe West's opinion."

"You didn't just call Joe?" Dinah said. "No offense, because I know you're hero-buddies with Barry, but Barry's a bit of a flake."

"Joe doesn't like Oliver very much," Felicity explained. She looked at Oliver. "Barry will ask Iris's opinion, too, I hope? Because I like Barry, but Dinah's right. And I don't trust him to notice sexual harassment."

Oliver nodded. "And that's why I'm asking for your help vetting this list," he said. "Help from both of you. Dinah, you'll notice one name on it." He handed the book to her. "Yours." 

"I'd be happy to help," she said. "I've hated being stuck here today, doing nothing."

"I'm also thinking about Lieutenant Pike," Oliver said. "But I want your feedback about him."

"He seems like one of the good ones," Dinah said. "But I haven't been around long enough to know for sure, and I'm not in the whisper network."

Felicity looked over her shoulder at the list. "Joanna de la Vega," she said. "I feel like I should know that name."

"She was a friend of Laurel's at CNRI," Oliver said. "She's worked on complaints against the police in the past. Plus I thought it would be good to have a lawyer on the commission."

"That might make it harder for Adrian Chase to wiggle in and manipulate people," Dinah said. "Good idea."

"And Dr. Schwartz?" Felicity said. "From Starling General?"

"She works shifts at the emergency room," Oliver said. "She interacts with a lot of the community."

"Plus she knows you're the Green Arrow," Felicity said. "If the conversations get awkward, she might deflect them."

"That wasn't my reasoning," Oliver said. "I just trust her. But yeah, you're right."

Dinah frowned at the list. "The civilian list is still heavy on doctors and lawyers and businesspeople," she said. "Cops tend to treat them better than everyone else." She looked from Oliver to Felicity, who were staring at her. "It's true," she said. "Some of us on the inside notice these things. If you're going to put the police department under civilian control, you'd better do it well, and make sure it fixes problems across the entire city."

Oliver nodded. "I've got an idea of someone to ask for more suggestions," he said. "In the meantime, do either of you have any names to add?"

Felicity picked up a pen and wrote a couple names. "These are people in the local tech community," she said. "They've always seemed fair to me." She looked at Dinah. "I know the cops usually treat them well, but it would be good to have the business community on your side if you're shaking things up." 

Dinah nodded. "I agree," she said, and took the pen. "Here are a couple more people in the police department," she said. "Clerical staff. They see more than the cops do, a lot of the time."

Oliver nodded. "Thanks." He turned and headed for the case containing his Arrow suit. 

"Where are you going?" Felicity asked.

"The person I'm thinking to ask would expect me to show up wearing green," Oliver replied. 

*

Oliver nudged open the latch and climbed in through the apartment window.

"Tonya James." He remembered to whisper this time. "I need you to deliver a message from me. To Liza Warner."

"Luckily for you, she came over for dinner tonight," Tonya said. "Liza! The mayor's here to talk to you!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Fortunately, she knows you're the Green Arrow, too." 

Oliver sighed. "Does the entire SCPD know?"

"Pretty much," Tonya replied.

Liza walked into the living room. "Mr. Queen," she said. "You didn't need to dress up for us."

"If I'm going to come in through a 10th story window, I do," he said.

"So...?" Liza waited.

"I looked through the city charter," Oliver said, "and I think I've found a way that the mayor can help deal with the police department. But I need advice from you." He looked from Liza to Tonya. "From both of you." 

"Yes...?" Liza asked. 

Oliver took a breath. "I'm going to fire the police chief and the deputy chief, and put the department under the control of a civilian commission," he said. "Or at least, a commission that's a mixture of police and civilians. I want to solve this problem for everyone." He dug in to his pockets for the notebook. "I've got a list of names of possible members. And I'd like some feedback about them. Are any of these people problems? And could you suggest any other names?"

Tonya and Liza pored over the list, occasionally making comments like _oh hell no_ and _are you serious_?

Oliver dug in his other pockets. "Here's a pen," he said, pulling it out of his flechette holder.

They continued going through the notebook, scratching out some names and writing down others. At one point, Liza looked up.

"Look, I don't know who suggested Nancy in HR, but seriously? Keep this commission far away from her. She's the biggest defender of the problem men in the entire department. Worse than the chief."

Oliver nodded. "You crossed her off the list?" 

"Damn right, I did," Liza responded. 

Finally, they handed the notebook back to Oliver.

"Thank you," he said, looking through the list.

"Thank us by making some real change, for once," Liza said.

Oliver took his notebook and pen, and zip-lined away into the night.

*

"You're right," Felicity said. "The city charter gives the mayor the power to hire – and presumably fire – the police chief. And it hasn't been amended. At least, that part hasn't been amended."

Oliver looked up from where he was putting away his flechettes. "But?"

"But nothing," Felicity replied. 

Oliver set down his weapons and walked over to her computer. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Felicity sighed. "I don't know," she said. "It's risky. You know how touchy the city council can get, even when the rules aren't on their side. And who knows how Chief Smith will respond. Or Adrian Chase."

Oliver nodded. "I know."

"But it's important," Felicity said. "And it's a risk that you're willing to take."

"Exactly," Oliver said.

Felicity spun around in her chair, stood, and pulled his face down into a kiss. "I love you," she said.

Oliver kissed her back, until they both decided that it was time to slip back through the darkened city to Oliver's apartment.

* 

Oliver took a breath. The press conference had been timed to happen simultaneously with the delivery of the letters that officially fired the police chief and the deputy chief. It had been a long morning already, talking to possible members of the new civilian oversight committee. Most of them had said yes, though a couple community members had refused, claiming family commitments. Felicity assured him that even Lyla would have said no, given the stress of balancing ARGUS and Princess Tadpole, and that there were actually people in the world for whom 'spending more time with their family' wasn't a euphemism.

The room was empty except for reporters. That was the plan. Felicity and the rest of the team were watching the Channel 52 video, which Felicity had hacked to make sure that they could see the entire performance, even if they were staying clear of the room. The other city officials weren't warned about what was happening. Lt. Pike and Dinah were ready to take over in the department, and to ensure that the chief left without incident.

Oliver stepped to the mic. "Thanks for coming on short notice," he said. "I know you are all aware of the ongoing investigation into conduct in the SCPD."

The reporters shifted, as if they were looking for the chief.

"I have recently been made aware of more allegations," Oliver said. "No... I can't describe them right now."

The reporters looked slightly annoyed at the lack of details.

"However, they are serious enough that I have decided to take further action," Oliver continued. "In accordance with Section II.3.vii of the City Charter, I am carrying out my duty as mayor to select the head of the police department. As of five minutes ago, John Smith has been removed from his position as the Chief of Police of Star City. Deputy Chief Chad Stevens will also be leaving the department. The investigation will continue, but will be completed by a committee composed of a mixture of civilians and employees of the SCPD." He took a breath and looked at the cameras. "Every person in Star City should feel safe in the company of our police force. Right now, the SCPD is not a safe space for either its employees or for members of the public. I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that this situation changes."

The reporters began shouting questions.

"You should be receiving a press release including the names of all the members of the new commission," Oliver said. "In the meantime, Captain David Singh of the Central City Police Department will be serving as the interim chief of the SCPD, with the assistance of Lt. Frank Pike and Lt. Dinah Drake. I have full confidence in their ability to protect Star City in this difficult time." He looked around the crowd. "Thank you."

Oliver walked briskly away from the podium, politely ignoring the questions shouted at him from all directions.

But the door out of the room was blocked.

"Interesting speech," said Adrian Chase. "But people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Oliver."

He stepped to the side and let Oliver pass.

Oliver was most of the way to his office before he remembered: Adrian hadn't been told about the press conference.


	33. Secrets and Alibis

"It's been almost 24 hours," Curtis said, swatting at a fly. "Maybe nothing is going to happen."

Felicity shook her head. "Something's going to happen. It's just... not going to be what we expect." She frowned at the whine of an alarm. "And can you shut that thing off? I keep telling you, it doesn't work. It's still set off by my chip, or something. Every time it goes off, I check the bunker, but there aren't any hummingbots in here."

Curtis grumbled, but he fiddled with the device until it stopped making noise. "I can't figure out what's wrong with it," he said. "I've calculated the frequencies given off by your chip. It shouldn't set off the alarm." 

"But it does," Felicity pointed out. "So _something_ must be wrong." 

"Fine," Curtis said. "I'll keep working on it. But, to get back to the point - maybe Adrian Chase already tried to convince the City Council that Oliver was out of line. Maybe he already told them that Oliver is the Green Arrow. Maybe the City Council just didn't care."

"I don't buy it," Felicity said.

"Why not?" Curtis argued. "Oliver gets away with a lot of things that nobody else could. Or at least, things that you couldn't, and I couldn't. How many colleges did Oliver get into after failing out of the first one?"

"Three," Felicity admitted.

"And what was his high school GPA when he applied to the first one?" Curtis asked.

"2.3," Felicity said. "He was lucky to get C's."

"And I bet he never took a practice test for the SATs, either," Curtis pointed out. "And he got into an Ivy League school?"

Felicity shrugged. She had given Oliver a hard time about the exact same facts.

"What GPA did you need, to get into MIT early?" Curtis asked.

"4.7," Felicity admitted. "It would have been higher if they had let me take more AP classes."

"Exactly," Curtis said. "And I needed to have perfect SAT scores AND be an Olympic-caliber athlete to get into Stanford."

"So?" Felicity asked.

"So Oliver gets away with things," Curtis said. "White, and male, and straight, and rich?"

"So he won at privilege bingo," Felicity said. "What's your point?"

"So if anyone could get away with being a vigilante who just fired the Chief of Police, it's Oliver," Curtis said.

"Point," Felicity replied. "But I still don't think that Adrian Chase is done with us. He basically threatened Oliver after the press conference."

"Yes," Curtis said. "But maybe Chase tried to bring down the Teflon Mayor... and already failed."

Felicity's phone buzzed. "Hold on," she said. "I've got a text."

"Oliver?" Curtis asked.

"No," Felicity replied. "Dinah."

 _Felicity, do these death threats seem weird to you?_ Dinah asked.

It was an odd text message to get, but Team Arrow sent a lot of strange messages. Dinah followed the message with several screenshots. 

Felicity read through them.

 _No,_ Felicity texted back. _Though I don't know why my Internet stalkers have gone after you_.

"What is it?" Curtis asked.

"For some reason, the Internet has decided that Oliver and Dinah are having an affair," Felicity said. "And that's why he put her on the police reform commission."

*

Oliver stalked into Adrian Chase's office.

"Shut the door behind you before you start," Adrian said. "I haven't told your secret."

"The City Council wants to know whether I fired the police chief so I could put my girlfriend in charge," Oliver said. "Councilwoman Pollard is somehow convinced that I'm sleeping with Dinah Drake." 

Adrian shrugged. "You do spend a lot of time in private conversations with Lt. Drake," he said. "Do you have an alibi for how you spend your nights?" 

Oliver glared at him. 

"Right," Adrian said. "You do. But you want to keep it a secret."

Oliver took a breath and tried not to respond. Finally, he turned to leave.

"Have a nice afternoon," Adrian called after Oliver. "I'm sure the City Council will be inviting you for a conversation soon."

*

"There's apparently a photo of me riding on the back of Oliver's motorcycle. Near Oliver's apartment," Dinah said.

The team was gathered in the bunker, trying to figure out a counter to Adrian Chase's latest move.

Curtis handed around his phone. "This is the photo."

John looked at it, then passed it to Rene.

"It sure looks like you," Rene said, as he passed the phone to Dinah. "Wearing Oliver's hoodie, even." 

"But I've never been on Oliver's motorcycle," Dinah said. "I ride my own bike. And I don't borrow Oliver's clothes."

"So where did this come from?" John asked. 

Felicity started coughing. Curtis patted her on the back.

John looked at Oliver. "You don't look surprised." He took the phone back from Dinah, then looked at Felicity. 

"Fine," Felicity said. "I'm the woman in the photo. I found it online, and edited it to look like it was someone else, and replaced every version of the original that I could find. I didn't mean for it to look like Dinah."

Curtis squinted at the photo. "I guess it doesn't necessarily look like Dinah," he said. "I mean, you can't see the face, or much of the hair. All I can tell is that the rider is taller than Felicity."

"So someone suggested that this might be Dinah," John said. "And the Internet took it from there?"

"Does Chase even use social media?" Rene asked. "Because I only use Facebook to follow my daughter's school groups, and Chase seems even less clued in than I am."

"I don't know," Oliver replied. "But Alena – Felicity's bomber - does. And she met with Adrian."

"And the death threats are her style," Felicity said. "Or at least, the style of her Internet friends."

"So do you think Alena saw the picture and spread it?" Dinah asked.

"Or showed it to Adrian," Oliver said.

"I'll try to figure out how the picture spread," Felicity said. "When did it go viral, who shared it first, when was it shared. Things like that."

"The photo was a week ago?" Oliver sounded fairly certain.

Felicity nodded, trying not to blush.

"And I fired the police chief on Tuesday. Two days ago." Oliver said.

"Right." Felicity forced herself into business-mode. "So there are two hypotheses for how the photo spread. If it was a normal viral photo, it was probably shared a little last week, and could have gotten out of control at any time. If Adrian Chase set it loose to get back at Oliver for firing the police chief, it shouldn't have gained much traction until after Tuesday." Felicity started typing.

"There's a more important question than who is responsible," John pointed out. "Are these just empty threats? Or is someone going after Dinah?" 

Dinah shrugged. "I already know what the hummingbots look like," she said. "I can take them down with my scream. I'm more worried about what the City Council is going to do. If they believe these rumors, they might decide to reinstate Chief Smith in the police department."

Oliver nodded grimly.

Felicity pumped her fist and spun in her chair. "The photo went viral late on Tuesday," she said. "After Oliver's press conference."

"Do you know who started it?" Curtis asked.

Felicity shook her head. "The original poster has pretty strong privacy protections. I'm having trouble getting through them."

"So Alena." Curtis didn't even bother to phrase it as a question.

Felicity nodded. "And she had an appointment with Chase late on Tuesday, according to the DA's office calendar. Which is still online."

"So how did Chase know about the photo?" Curtis asked. "Because Rene's right. He doesn't seem like much of a hacker."

Felicity nodded. "He doesn't protect, like, anything. He has zero clue about the Internet, as far as I can tell." She turned back to her computer. "I'll dig back through his files again." 

"But in the meantime, we need a way to deal with City Council," John said.

"We won't come up with a solution tonight," Oliver said. "Go home. All of you. If you have any ideas, you can text me."

"Or Felicity?" Curtis asked.

"Or Felicity," Oliver agreed.

* 

Oliver lay in his bed, looking at the ceiling.

Felicity rolled over to look at him. "Now you're the one who is thinking."

He turned towards her and smiled. "Are you saying that I should leave that to you?"

"Not at all," she said. "But you can share. If you want to."

Oliver sighed. "I can't see a way through this that doesn't involve dealing with Adrian Chase."

"I know," Felicity agreed. 

"He's got his hands in everything. Dinah's getting death threats. You've been called to testify at that trial. Who's he going to go after next? Baby Sara?" Oliver said.

"Her mom's a badass," Felicity said. "And her daycare center is at ARGUS. Sara's probably ok."

"But what about Rene's daughter? Or Curtis's husband?" Oliver fretted.

"Or Roy," Felicity said. "Alena knows that he's alive."

"Have you heard from him lately?" Oliver asked.

"Not recently," Felicity replied. "I think Thea talks to him more often."

"She doesn't," Oliver sighed. "She was worried that she would blow his cover, so she broke things off with him again."

They lay there for a moment in silence.

"This would be so much easier if I weren't the Green Arrow," Oliver said.

"None of us would be in your life if you hadn't become the Arrow," Felicity said. "Except Thea."

Oliver nodded. "I know. But it would be nice not to have any more secrets. You know? I wouldn't have to worry about blowing my cover by giving the police that tape with the evidence against Adrian. You wouldn't have to worry about lying under oath in that trial."

"Thea and Roy could be together," Felicity agreed.

"Exactly," Oliver said.

Felicity lay there for a moment. Finally, she leaned up on her elbow. "You could tell a different secret," she said.

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked. 

"You could tell people that we're married," she said. "I'm your alibi, the person who knows that Dinah isn't sleeping with you. Because I've been here all night, every night."

"Really?" Oliver asked. "You would be ok with that?" 

Felicity shrugged. "Well... if you were the one to tell my mother. She wouldn't yell at you. Though she might shriek a little." She grimaced. "Well, more than a little. But you could hold the phone away from your ear." 

Oliver chuckled. "I would be happy to deal with your mother. But... what about everyone else? You like your privacy." He looked at her more seriously. "The reporters would hound you. About your personal life. Not just about your company."

Felicity nodded. "I know. But maybe... maybe it would be worth it." 

"We can sleep on it," Oliver suggested. "We don't have to decide until morning." 

He swatted away a fly, put an arm around Felicity, and fell into a deep sleep.


	34. Glass Houses

The next morning, Felicity watched - and more importantly, listened - while Oliver called her mother. She could hear the shrieking from the other side of Oliver's kitchen as he held the phone away from his ear and raised an eyebrow at her. When he held the phone out towards her, she shook her head frantically. Oliver shrugged, and told her mother that Felicity wasn't there. 

Lying to her mother was fine, Felicity told herself. It didn't actually count as lying. It was really more of a kind of self-defense. Like killing as a last resort.

Oliver shook his head in amusement and handed her another cup of coffee. And an omelet.

She took a bite and moaned.

Oliver grinned. "If you make that sound, I will make you coffee and omelets every day for the rest of your life."

Felicity smiled back at him. "Is that a promise?"

"I'll write it into my vows," he replied.

"Wait. No more vows. We did the vows already." Felicity shook her head at him. "What did my mother make you promise?"

Oliver looked guilty. "She wants us to dance. In front of her."

"And you said yes??" Felicity looked horrified. "Oliver, you don't dance. And you have no idea what you just agreed to. We'll have to dance to Hava Nagila until someone collapses."

"John Diggle is very good at first aid," Oliver said.

"You're enjoying this," Felicity accused him.

"I like your mother," Oliver admitted. "And my sister would love to see me dance until I fall over."

"At least Quentin would keep my mother from getting too ridiculous when she gets drunk," Felicity said. "Wait. No. I did not just agree to a wedding reception, or a renewal of vows, or ANYTHING that would let my mother embarrass me in public." She shook her head at him. "A press conference. And an alibi. And some not-too-intrusive photos." She sunk into her chair and leaned her head on her coffee cup.

Oliver sat beside her and looked at her seriously. "Felicity, are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "Yes. I will be your alibi. And I will help you take down Adrian Chase. And I will stand beside you at official mayor functions and smile and endure the squeeing of the Internet. And hopefully the death threats will all go away and we'll be able to live happily ever after."

Oliver smiled at her and shooed the fly away from her omelet.

*

The press conference was planned for early afternoon.

Felicity spent the morning searching Adrian Chase's financial records, e-mails, and Internet browsing history for something that she had missed. The guy was into some incredibly creepy porn, which wasn't surprising when you thought about it, but there wasn't anything else.

She stared at the Paypal history again. That company, Helix, with an address near MIT and a total lack of respect for intellectual property. There was something about it. Felicity started a deeper search, and went downstairs to change her clothes for the press conference.

*

Oliver sat at his office desk, rearranging his pens for the tenth time, and gazing out the window at the skyline of the city. It was a different view from Queen Consolidated's old offices, and a different view from the loft. But it was still his city.

He looked at the photos on his desk. His favorite was of Thea, five years old, laughing and trying to swing from his parents' hands. His mother looked elegant, like even a five-year-old couldn't ruffle her. His father smiled down at her, indulgent as always. Oliver wasn't in the photo – he had borrowed Tommy's camera, and took the picture himself.

He knew which photo of Felicity he would add to his desk, when he got the chance. It was from their summer together, before Ivy Town, before the first engagement and the lies. She was laughing, tired and sweaty from a hike, glowing. He was just staring down at her, like she was this magical creature that had somehow appeared in his life and covered him with glitter and joy.

Oliver looked out at the city skyline again. If he were still the mayor after today, he would put that picture to his desk.

*

Felicity frowned into the mirror and smoothed the red dress again. The skirt was short. Was it too short? Should she wear a lighter shade of lipstick with it? It might be chilly. Should she wear the tan jacket? Not the black one; that looked like she was going to a funeral. She heard her mother's voice in one ear, and horribly, Isabel Rochev's voice, commenting about her skirt length, in the other. Finally she shook her head, picked up her purse, and headed upstairs.

The search into Helix had finished. She stared at the descriptions of products that filled her screen. Or at least, at one of the descriptions.

She had designed that device – or something very similar – for a class project at MIT.

Alena had designed her hummingbot, originally, for a class project at MIT. And Felicity bet that she knew the professor's name. Dr. James. Dr. Cayden James. The same asshole who made his grad students sleep with him. Of course he stole his students' designs. And sold them, using a secret company registered in New Hampshire, to serial killers in Star City.

Felicity was going to kill the guy if she ever saw him again. In fact, she was going to hack his TIAA-CREF account, take all his retirement savings, and use them to pay for health care for orphans, and then she was going to kill him. Slowly and painfully. And she wasn't even going to let Oliver talk her out of it.

Oliver. She had to warn Oliver. Because James didn't just steal inventions. He adapted them. And that meant that Adrian Chase could be using something other than a hummingbot. Like a very angry sparrow. Or a mosquito.

Shit. Mosquitoes. Susan Williams had described mosquitoes and cockroaches in her apartment, before her heart stopped. Either one of them could have been a robot, based on Alena's design, but smaller. And still deadly. And programmed from Boston by Cayden James, doing Adrian Chase's dirty work. So Chase could keep his hands clean.

Felicity texted Oliver, but he didn't answer.

It was time to get to the press conference. She could tell him when she got there. 

*

Oliver looked out at the crowd. His phone was silenced – if it weren't, he knew that he would start getting messages before he was done speaking. And he didn't want to be interrupted before he was done.

Felicity looked back at him. She was working her way towards the front of the crowd, ready to play her part, wearing that red dress that Oliver loved so much. He smiled at her, unable to read anything but _'good luck_ ' in the gestures she was making.

He stepped to the mic, and began.

"Thank you for coming," Oliver said. "I realize that these press conferences are getting to be a bit of a habit."

There wasn't much laughter. Oliver nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't reading the room as well as he normally did.

"I'd like to start by talking about some rumors on social media about my personal life," he continued. "Apparently there is a photo circulating on the Internet, showing me with a woman, on the way to my apartment. Maybe some of you have seen it." 

The crowd rustled.

"I would like to introduce you to the woman in that photo," Oliver said. "And my alibi for how I spend my nights." He looked at the edge of the crowd. "Felicity?"

Felicity scrambled onto the platform and waved awkwardly at the crowd.

"Members of the press, citizens of Star City..." Oliver looked into the cameras. "And everyone on social media, I guess. I'd like you to meet my wife. Felicity Smoak."

The cameras flashed as Felicity put her arm around his waist. He looked down at her, smiling. She looked worried, so he pulled her in tighter and looked back at the cameras.

"Mr. Queen!" one of the reporters shouted. "When did you get married?"

"Six months ago," Oliver replied.

"Felicity, are you pregnant?" someone shouted.

"It's 'Ms. Smoak,'" Oliver replied for her. "If you're going to call me 'Mr. Queen,' don't call her 'Felicity.' And no. We're not having children."

The crowd buzzed. 

"I had a vasectomy," Oliver continued.

"That might have been TMI," Felicity whispered.

"If we're telling truths, might as well tell them all," Oliver whispered back. 

"Mr. Queen!" another reporter shouted. "How does this affect your view of the sexual harassment issues in the police department? You married your secretary, after all."

Oliver frowned at him. "She was my executive assistant," he said. "And that was more than three years ago. Since then, she's been a corporate vice-president, a CEO, and the head of a start-up." He glanced down at her. "And Entrepreneur of the Year."

"Were you in a relationship while you were still her boss?" the reporter continued. "Wasn't that unethical?"

"First, no, I was not in a relationship with Ms. Smoak while I was CEO of Queen Consolidated," Oliver said. "But that really isn't the point, is it." He paused and looked at Felicity. "I was wrong. Not by getting into a relationship with her – that was the best decision that I've ever made. But by pressuring her to be my executive assistant, forcing her to leave a job that she was incredibly good at, when I was already half in love with her – that was wrong. And I plan to make coffee for her every day, for the rest of my life, to apologize."

Felicity turned towards him and pulled his face down into a kiss. 

The cameras flashed, and reporters shouted more questions. Felicity took his hand, ready to leave, but Oliver shook his head slightly.

He stepped back to the microphone. "But that's not all that I wanted to say today," Oliver continued.

The crowd fell silent.

"I have two more things to tell you," he said. "The first one is a secret that I've been keeping for years. But my friends, and my family, have been helping me keep it for too long. No more." He took a breath and looked out at the crowd. "I am the Green Arrow."

The crowd rustled and grumbled.

Oliver waited for the questions.

Finally, someone shouted, "That's it?"

Oliver shrugged. "It seemed like a pretty big revelation," he said.

"We already knew that you're the Green Arrow," someone else said. "Everyone knew that."

"You didn't think we were fooled by that kid, did you? The short, clean-shaven kid?" The reporters were all shaking their heads, as if they couldn't believe how naive their politicians were. Or maybe how naive their vigilantes were.

"I realize that I've done a lot of things that were wrong," Oliver continued. "And illegal. When this is over, I'm turning myself over to the federal authorities."

"What?" Felicity whispered.

Oliver nodded towards where Lyla was standing on the other side of the platform. "Lyla knew that I was going to do this," he whispered back. "It'll be ok. I'm one of her assets. Remember?" 

Felicity shot a look at Lyla, who shrugged back. _Need to know_ , Lyla had said. Oliver hoped that the secret plan wouldn't hurt Felicity's and Lyla's friendship. Or his and Felicity's marriage.

"Why now?" a reporter shouted. "Why are you telling us now? We've known for years."

"I've recently become aware of the price that other people have been paying to let me keep this secret." Oliver shrugged in acknowledgment. "Which wasn't even a secret, as it turns out. But it's not just my friends and family who have been paying. It's this community."

The reporters shuffled and murmured to each other.

"Last week, I had a long conversation with a man who admitted to being a serial killer," Oliver said. "I have a recording of the conversation. But I haven't dealt with him. Because in that conversation, he also talked about things that I had done. As the Green Arrow, and before. The only evidence that I had against him would also have incriminated me."

The crowd waited. Finally someone asked. "Well? What are you going to do now?"

"I've given the recording to the SCPD, and Acting Chief Singh has sent it to the Central City and Coast City forensics labs to be verified," Oliver said. "It's important to do this properly, given the alleged killer." He looked out at the crowd. "After all, he's the Star City District Attorney. Adrian Chase."

*

Oliver finally let out a long breath when they got into the car. Not into a limo – Oliver had sworn off limos long ago. Instead, he folded his legs into the tiny space in front of the passenger's seat of Felicity's Mini.

"It didn't go that badly. I think." He looked at the tracking bracelet that Lyla had put on him.

Felicity glanced at it, then looked back at the road.

"Are you mad at me?" Oliver asked. "Because I didn't tell you everything that I was going to say?"

"No," Felicity said. "It's ok. But I don't think we should talk about it yet. Not here."

She pulled into the garage beneath the bunker, and they climbed out.

"Not yet," she said, holding up a hand, as they climbed into the elevator.

When they got out, she headed for Curtis's workbench, picked up one of Curtis's devices, and turned it on. Immediately, it let out a high-pitched whine, like some kind of alarm. Felicity nodded and pressed another button, and the whine stopped. 

"Hopefully that worked," she said.

Something fell onto the floor in front of them. Felicity picked it up and showed it to him. 

"A fly?" Oliver frowned.

Felicity pried off one of its wings with her fingernail. It fell onto the table with a metallic-sounding ping.

"Not just a fly," she said. "A bug. A robot bug." She tapped the fly on the workbench until something popped open.

Oliver peered at it. "What is that?"

"It's a power source like the one in my chip," she said. "It makes it possible to take Alena's hummingbots and make them smaller."

"This is Alena's work?" Oliver squinted at it. 

"No," Felicity said. "It's made by a company called Helix. Owned by one of my old MIT professors. Mine... and Alena's. He takes designs from his students, adapts them, and sells them." She scowled at the robot fly. "He's made a fortune. And his students never see a penny of it."

"And his customers include...?" Oliver was starting to put the pieces together.

"Adrian Chase. He's been sending payments to this company, through Paypal, every month. I thought Helix just sold miniaturized medical devices, but then I dug around a little more." Felicity tapped the fly with her fingernail. "These are just surveillance. I think. But if he sells robot flies, he could sell other insects, too. Like mosquitoes."

Oliver nodded. "Which could deliver something that would cause cardiac arrest."

"Or an allergic reaction. Or a drug that would cause a driver to be less attentive and hit a bicyclist. Or could kill people in all sorts of other ways, in all sorts of apparent accidents." Felicity looked at him. "Oliver, we've got the last piece that we need to bring down Adrian Chase. You had the confession and the motive. But now we've got the means, too."

Oliver smiled at her. "Felicity, you're remarkable."

She smiled back. "I always love it when you remark on it." But she stepped back, away from his attempted kiss. "Oliver, you should call Dinah, or Lt. Pike, or somebody. Tell them what we've figured out." She frowned. "And Curtis should be around somewhere. He'll need to explain his devices to the police."

Oliver picked up his phone and turned it on. It started buzzing. "Sorry," he said. "I've got a lot of messages." 

"I'm sure I do, too," Felicity said.

He was about to ignore them and dial the police, when a new one appeared on his screen. 

 _I'm so excited for the celebration!!!_ There were a lot of emojis after the words. Donna Smoak loved her emojis. _See you soon!_

Felicity was frowning at her phone. "Oliver, are you getting these messages?"

She showed him one from Samantha Clayton. _I'm so happy for both of you_ , it said. _Thanks for sending the plane. William and I will be there._ It was five hours old.

"Be where?" Felicity asked. "Oliver, did you...?"

"No," he said. "I didn't plan anything."

"Well, you did plan tell everyone that you're the Green Arrow and have Lyla put a tracking device on you," Felicity pointed out.

"Ok. I did plan that," Oliver conceded. "But I didn't invite your mother – or Samantha and William – to anything."

Felicity looked around the bunker. "Oliver, does it seem weird to you, everyone being gone? I was so busy thinking about the robot bugs that I didn't notice."

Oliver nodded. Felicity walked over to her workstation and picked up a piece of paper.

Oliver's phone buzzed with another message. He looked down at it, just as Felicity headed back to show him something.

"Oliver, look at this," she said.

 

 

_You are invited_

_to a celebration of the marriage_

_of_

_Oliver Queen_

_and_

_Felicity Smoak_

 

The address was somewhere on the waterfront. The time was later that night. 

Oliver looked at the message on his phone. It was from Adrian Chase.

 _See you on the boat_ , it said.


	35. The Love Boat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise not to kill Samantha Clayton. I hated season 6 from the moment she died.
> 
> No more dead ex-girlfriends for Oliver.

"There's something pretty twisted about inviting people to a wedding reception – or renewal of vows, or whatever – on the Love Boat." Felicity looked up from the photos of the yacht that normally docked at the address on the invitations. "Given your history, I mean."

Oliver nodded grimly. He and Felicity had gone through their text messages, trying to figure out who exactly had received the invitations. It looked like at least Quentin, Donna, Samantha, William, Thea, Curtis, Rene, and Dinah were already on their way. 

"I think this one is Roy," Felicity said, showing Oliver a text. "It's from a burner phone, but he makes these kinds of punctuation mistakes."

"And this one is from Lyla," Oliver added, showing her another. "It sounds like she got a babysitter for Sara, at least. But she and John are going to be there."

"I can't believe that every single one of our friends fell for this," Felicity said. "What are we going to do? We can't call Barry – he sent condolences and said something about trying to prevent another evil speedster from destroying the world."

"And everyone else we know is at least half villain." Oliver glared at his phone.

"Right. Could you imagine the Bratva, Malcolm Merlyn, Helena Bertinelli, and Slade Wilson at a party?" Felicity shuddered.

Oliver shook his head. It sounded like total chaos...

...which might be the solution.

"I've got an idea," Oliver said. "Print a photo of the 'Love Boat.'"

Felicity tapped a key. "Done."

"And then..." Oliver grimaced. "I know you went to a fake wedding to deal with one villain. How do you feel about going to a fake reception?"

"To save our friends?" Felicity set her shoulders. "Of course I'll do it. What should I wear?"

* 

Felicity wore a white dress. Not a wedding dress, but thin and lacey enough to give that impression. Oliver wore a tux. A tux, with flechettes hidden in his cummerbund and two guns in a pair of shoulder holsters hidden beneath his vest. Felicity had Curtis's anti-robotic-bug device, plus both of his T-spheres and a small tablet, tucked inside her clutch. They both had comms in their ears.

They couldn't hide much else in their formal wear. They hoped it would be enough.

They rode to the docks in Felicity's Mini, silent the entire way. Felicity parked, and they nodded, still silent, before getting out of the car.

Show time. 

The gangway was festooned with garlands of evergreens, dotted with white and blue flowers. They could hear Donna's shriek from inside the boat as soon as they started up the ramp. By the time they reached the main deck, most of the group was standing beside the rails, waiting to greet them. 

"Ollie!" Thea exclaimed, pulling Oliver in for the first hug. "And Felicity! Finally!" She looked around at the crowd, then pulled Oliver closer. "Roy stayed inside," she whispered. "He thinks he's still supposed to be dead."

Oliver smiled at her. "I'm looking forward to seeing him," he said. "And it's great to see you happy." 

Thea grinned at him, then pushed him onward. "Go," she said. "Your wife is already talking to people."

But Oliver's team waylaid him before he was able to catch up with Felicity.

"I can't believe you actually told everyone," Curtis said. "In a press conference, even."

"You didn't need to protect me," Dinah said. "I know you and Felicity wanted to keep your privacy."

Oliver nodded and shrugged. "It was time to end things with Adrian Chase," he said. "You weren't the only one at risk. Anyone connected to members of the team – Curtis's husband, Rene's daughter – Adrian could have gone after them next."

"Well, I appreciate you worrying about Zoe," Rene said. "But turning yourself in to the Feds was a weird way to protect all of us."

Oliver glanced at Lyla. John followed his gaze.

"You knew," John said to her. He looked at Oliver. "You told my wife, and you didn't tell me?"

" _Need to know_ , Johnny," Lyla replied. "Oliver is one of my assets, and he understood the situation perfectly. The fewer people who knew about this, the better." 

Oliver glanced up as a fly buzzed past his head. He nodded to everyone on the team. "Thank you for all your good wishes," he said. "But now, I'd better try to catch up with my wife."

*

Felicity was ahead of Oliver when she reached Samantha and William. She glanced backward, briefly regretting missing a hug from John Diggle, but she thought the conversation with Lyla could wait. Samantha and William were her first priority.

She accepted Samantha's hug, and then looked up at William.

"I know," William said. "I grew. Everyone tells me that."

"I was wondering if I had shrunk," Felicity joked. "You're...?"

"Twelve," William said. "Sixth grade."

"What are you playing these days?" Felicity asked.

"Not Pokemon Go any more. It's pretty lame," William replied. "Mostly Overwatch now."

Felicity grinned at him. "Nice."

"And I don't share my personal information with anyone on the Internet," he added.

"Good," Felicity nodded. "I've got an upgrade for the code that I gave you. Do you have your phone?"

William nodded and handed it to her. Felicity tapped the screen a few times, and then handed it back.

"Thanks," he said. 

Felicity leaned forward. "Do you still remember how to get out of zip ties around your wrists?" she whispered.

William nodded. "I'm not supposed to practice with friends, though," he said.

"Good idea," Felicity agreed. "Tying up your friends is definitely not something you want to do in middle school."

William grinned back at her. But before she could say anything else to him, she was attacked by a shrieking blonde whirlwind.

"Oh, my baby girl!" Donna cried, pulling Felicity into her arms. "Oliver said not to count on anything. I didn't expect you to have the celebration so soon!"

"Thanks for booking that flight for us," Quentin said from behind Donna.

"The message came from YOU this time," Donna said. "I didn't accept a flight from a stranger on the Internet."

"Good," Felicity said. "Good."

Donna stepped back. "What's the matter, honey?"

"Maybe she's having second thoughts about marrying Oliver Queen," Quentin said. "Or third thoughts. Or fourth thoughts."

"Now, sweetie," Donna chided him. "It's been years since you two made up. Oliver's grown a lot." She leaned towards Felicity. "But I had no idea that he was the Green Arrow!" she whispered. "How exciting! A mayor, AND a superhero! And he looks nice in those leather pants."

"Mom!" Somehow, Felicity could still be scandalized by her mother. 

Oliver came up behind her just in time. Or maybe just at the wrong time, given that Felicity was still blushing furiously.

"Congratulations," Quentin said. "Your friend Harper is waiting for you inside."

"Hopefully he'll be able to come out in public now," Oliver said.

They headed through a pair of doors into the glass-walled ballroom that formed the main cabin of the yacht. There was a table of food along one wall, and a table covered with presents along the other. The bar, at the far end of the room, had lots of bottles and glasses, but no bartender.

Well, unless Roy Harper was playing that job. But at the moment, Thea had him pressed back against the bar and was kissing him.

Oliver coughed, and Thea pulled away.

"I hope you aren't going to put another arrow in my leg," Roy said.

"Never," Oliver said, reaching out a hand to shake his, then pulling him into a one-armed hug.

"Good," Roy said. "Even as a wedding present, if Thea and I get married next?"

Thea nudged him in the ribs. "You're supposed to ask _me_ first."

" _You_ already asked _me_ ," Roy replied. "And I'm not asking Oliver's permission. Just making sure there won't be any death threats."

"It's fine," Oliver said. 

Felicity grabbed Roy and pulled him into a hug. "Congratulations."

"You, too," Roy replied. He looked around at the crowd. "Hey, I haven't seen any caterers, but the food looks great. Can we eat?"

Thea wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. I thought there wouldn't be many flies on the harbor in the winter."

Felicity glanced back through the doors. The gangway had been removed, and the boat had pulled out into the wider part of the harbor.

Oliver looked at her, and she opened her clutch, pulled out Curtis's anti-robot device, and turned it on. The alarm squealed for a moment before she pushed the other button. Several flies fell to the ground.

"What was that?" Thea asked. 

"Bug repellent," Felicity replied.

Oliver was already moving to the table with the presents. He grabbed the largest one, carried it to the door, and heaved it into the harbor.

"Hey!" Rene said. "Those were really fluffy towels!"

"Sorry," Oliver said. "But we need to clear this space. Anything in here could be a bomb." He looked at the surprised guests. "Felicity and I didn't plan this reception. Adrian Chase did."

"And Alena was involved, too," Felicity added. "She spoofed at least one text message. And I'm pretty sure that she managed all the plane tickets, too." She dug into her purse and pulled out the T-spheres. "These could check the boat for explosives, right?"

Curtis grabbed one and tapped a few things. "Now they will," he said, and sent the T-sphere flying. 

They listened for its warning, but instead, one of the sets of windows erupted in flames.


	36. Deus ex Machina

The smoke cleared. "I said to open the door," Sara Lance said. "Not to blow out a window."

Mick Rory shrugged. "We landed on the wrong side of the boat for the door." He set his heat gun at the end of the table of refreshments and grabbed a plate.

Amaya Jiwe hefted a wrapped gift. "You probably want to open this right away," she said to Oliver.

Oliver tore off the wrapping to find his bow and a quiver full of arrows. "Thanks," he said.

"That seemed like the most appropriate gift," Sara said. "Given that your bow was still in the empty bunker in 2020."

"You found the invitation," Oliver said.

Sara nodded. "An empty bunker, an invitation to a wedding reception, and a photo of a boat," she said. "I knew you would never hold your wedding reception on a boat, Ollie."

"Where are the others?" Felicity asked. 

"Back on the Waverider," Amaya replied.

"I guessed that this might be a water rescue. You might think that a timeship called the Waverider would be good for water rescues." Sara shrugged. "You would be wrong. In any case, I wanted to leave a lot of room in the jump ship for passengers. Only Amaya and I planned to come."

Felicity frowned. "And Mick."

"He wasn't invited." Sara glared at him. "He stowed away."

Mick looked up from his plate. "Star City has great seafood," he said. "And I hate to miss a good party."

They were interrupted by a T-sphere whizzing by their heads. Curtis reached up and grabbed it. 

"Strange party games," Mick said, reaching for his heat gun.

"NO," Sara warned him, pulling the gun out of his reach.

Curtis frowned at the sphere.

"What is it?" Dinah asked. "Are there explosives?" 

"Yes," Curtis replied. "Everywhere." 

"Good thing we brought the jump ship," Sara said.

"I'll get it," Amaya offered, and dove out of the window.

"We've got room for six or seven in there, if Mick and I stay behind," Sara said. "Amaya can fly it to the Waverider, and then come back for the rest of you."

Oliver nodded. "Take Samantha and William," he said. "Donna and Quentin, too. And Thea and Roy."

Thea frowned. "Roy and I can help," she said. 

Oliver shook his head. "No more tragedies for you," he said. "If anything happens to us, be a kick-ass aunt."

"Ollie..." Thea started.

"We'd better do what he says." Roy looked carefully at Oliver's bow. 

"Fine," Thea grumbled. "How do we get out there?"

"Amaya will bring it to the window," Sara said. "Just climb in."

"Hope you like spaceships, Mom," Felicity said, nudging her towards the window.

"Is this like your Doctor What show?" Donna asked. "Bigger on the inside?"

"How do you remember the lines, but not the name of the show, Mom?" Felicity shook her head. "Just go."

Donna gave Felicity a fast hug, and Oliver a longer one. Then Quentin grabbed Donna's hand and helped her out the window. 

"That's two on the ship," Sara said. "Three if you count Amaya. Who's next?" 

Samantha looked around frantically. "I can't find William," she said.

Everyone looked around. 

"He's tall now," Felicity said, as Rene looked underneath a table. "He's not going to be under there."

"Before Oliver and Felicity got here, he was asking me about the parts of a boat," Roy offered. "Maybe he went exploring when things got dull." 

"I can't go without him!" Samantha argued.

"Yes, you can," Felicity said. "Curtis can search for him with his T-spheres. And I can track his phone. Oliver and I will find him." She grabbed Samantha by the shoulders. "Trust me. And get off this boat, so we don't have to worry about you, too."

Samantha looked carefully at Felicity, then nodded. "You and Oliver have saved him before," she said. "I trust you."

"Good," Felicity said. "Now go." 

Thea and Roy helped Samantha out the window.

"There's room for one more," Sara said.

Lyla and John shared a look. "I'll go," Lyla said. "One parent per mission. Family rules." 

John nodded, then kissed her. 

"Stay safe, Johnny," Lyla said. 

Lyla followed Thea and Roy out of the window, and the jump ship pulled away. 

"So?" Sara asked. "There are explosives. How do we keep them from going off?" 

"We find Adrian Chase and deal with him," Oliver said. "He lured us here. Along with Felicity's old employee, Alena – she might be here, too." 

"I'll send the T-spheres looking for them, and for William," Curtis said. "One up top, and one below the main deck."

"And I'll keep using the bug repellent," Felicity added.

"I just want to point out that the robot detector really did work," Curtis said. "There wasn't anything wrong with it." 

"There wasn't anything wrong," Felicity agreed. "The robots were just smaller than I expected. And this isn't the time for I-told-you-so's." 

Curtis nodded, and sent the T-spheres on their way. 

Oliver shrugged out of his tux jacket, then pulled off his vest. He handed his shoulder holster to John, then slipped the quiver on over his suspenders. John took one gun and handed the other to Rene.

"Can I have my heat gun back?" Mick asked Sara. "Everyone else has a gun. Or a bow. Or whatever Glasses is carrying. I promise not to shoot anyone's balls."

"Feel free to shoot Adrian Chase in the balls," Felicity grumbled. "Feel free to shoot him anywhere. I am so done with that guy."

"I brought extra comms," Sara said, holding out a handful of earpieces. "Your bunker was full of things that you forgot."

"I don't normally suit up like this for weddings," Rene said. But he took one, and handed the others around.

"Let's search the boat in pairs," John suggested. "It might be faster than using Curtis's T-spheres alone."

Oliver nodded. "Dinah and Curtis should be one team," he suggested. "If the T-spheres trigger an explosion, Dinah's cry might help."

"I'll take Mick," Sara said. "Who knows what he'll get into if I don't."

"And Rene, go with John," Oliver continued.

"Because you want John to keep _me_ out of trouble, too?" Rene asked.

"No," Oliver said. "Because I want to be with Felicity. It's our wedding reception, after all."

"No hiding in closets and making out," Sara smirked.

Oliver just shook his head at her.

Sara shrugged. "Just trying to lighten the mood. I know that Felicity promised Samantha that she would find the kid, and I know she meant it."

Oliver nodded. "Curtis and Dinah, search the top. John and Rene, take the starboard. Sara and Rory, take the port."

"Nice job remembering the directions on a boat," Sara said.

Oliver shrugged. "Felicity and I will go down and check the galley. Curtis, if your T-spheres find anything, tell us." He didn't wait for a response, and headed for the stairs into the galley.

*

Felicity followed Oliver down the stairs, glancing at Curtis's robot-bug detector every few moments. The galley would have felt crowded enough, what with the narrow aisles between the counters, but there were trays of food strapped down near the entrance, and stacks of table linens sitting behind them. It was hard to see the floor at the ends of the aisles, especially given the limited light from the small, high windows.

A figure moved in the shadows at the far end of the room.

Oliver raised his bow and nocked an arrow. "Alena?" he called. "Don't move."

The alarm on Curtis's detector whined, and Felicity tapped the button that would knock out any tiny robots in the room. Several mosquitoes clattered to the floor.

"Alena!" Felicity called. 

"It bit me," Alena said. "One of them bit me."

Oliver moved forward. Felicity stayed on the stairs, where she could see over his shoulder. Alena was slumped against one of the counters.

"Are you ok?" Felicity asked. "The mosquitoes..."

"...are based on the design of my hummingbots. I know." Alena seemed to be having trouble breathing.

"They can inject poisons," Felicity said. "You need medical attention."

"EMTs won't get here fast enough," Alena said. "We're in the middle of the bay, and this poison acts fast."

"You know about it?" Oliver growled.

"I've hacked all of DA Chase's financial records," she said. "Including the ones paying for drugs. And poisons." She laughed and looked at Felicity. "Chemical Engineering minor. Remember? I can figure stuff out."

"So you know he's been killing women?" Felicity asked.

"Yes," Alena said. "Not until after I met with him to complain about you firing me. But now I know." She shrugged. "I can handle him." 

"The poison – or whatever – from the mosquito-bot says that maybe you can't," Felicity pointed out.

"DA Chase doesn't know that I originally designed the robots," Alena said. "I know more about his poisons than he does."

"And you kept working with someone who was using your designs to murder women?" Felicity frowned.

Alena shrugged. "He wanted you on the boat. And I wanted to see you two at a reception. It worked out for both of us." She looked from Felicity to Oliver and back. "Congratulations, by the way."

Felicity shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. It didn't _work out_. You've been poisoned."

"There's a cure," Alena said. "And it needs to be administered quickly." 

"You have the cure somewhere?" Oliver asked.

"I don't have the cure," Alena replied. "But you do."

Felicity couldn't see Oliver's face, but she could imagine the confused look.

Alena laughed. "It's true love's kiss," she said.

"Um." Felicity said. "I really hope you haven't decided that Adrian Chase is your true love. And also, fairy tales and biochemistry are only an interesting combination if you get rid of the sexism underlying the fairy tales."

"Not someone kissing _me_ ," Alena replied. "Two people in love kissing _each other_. You two."

"Still doesn't explain how it would cure the poison," Felicity argued. 

"Dopamine," Alena said. "It's practically magic." She paused to breathe. "But you'd better hurry. The poison is acting fast."

"Ok. Fine." Felicity nudged against Oliver.

"Where I can see both of you," Alena said.

Oliver turned and frowned at Felicity. "You ok with this?"

Felicity nodded.

Oliver scooted sideways down the aisle, bow and arrow still in one hand, eyes on Alena. Felicity moved behind him, trying to find a good position in the narrow aisle.

"On the counter," Alena suggested. 

Felicity looked up at Oliver. He nodded at her, then wrapped his free arm around Felicity and lifted her onto the counter. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself, then leaned down and touched her lips to Oliver's.

Oliver leaned forward, cradling her head in his free hand. He somehow managed not to drop the bow.

Or at least, Felicity didn't think he dropped the bow. It was hard to tell, what with Oliver's lips on hers. For a moment, she lost track of her surroundings – the bow, the movement of the boat, Alena watching. The entire world shrank down to Oliver's lips, and his tongue, and his stubble, rough against her skin. Felicity pulled him in closer, ran one hand under his suspenders, and moaned.

Oliver laughed.

Alena sighed. "Yes. Exactly."

Felicity released Oliver, pushing him back with one last kiss. "Ok?" she asked Alena.

"Perfect," Alena said, and crumpled to the floor.

Felicity hopped off the counter and rushed to her side, with Oliver one step behind her. She leaned over Alena's face and pressed her fingers against Alena's neck.

Oliver frowned down at them, worried.

Felicity looked back at him and shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "The endorphins didn't work." She adjusted her legs until she was kneeling near Alena's chest. "I'll do CPR. You watch for Chase. There isn't room on the floor for both of us."

Oliver nodded and stood watch while Felicity alternated breaths, then chest compressions, then more breaths.

After about two minutes, Oliver stiffened, as if listening to his comm. "Yes, Sara," he replied. "Yes. And could you come down here? We've got someone who needs medical attention." He paused. "Yes. You can bring Mick. But tell him that he can't wait here and eat. He can just take the catering trays with him, if he wants."

"What?" Felicity asked, counting the timing of the chest compressions in her head.

"Sara thinks that she found Chase. Or Mick found Chase. He's been moving, keeping ahead of the T-spheres." Oliver looked worried. "And she thinks that William is probably with him."


	37. Choice

Mick grunted as he picked up Alena. "If she's a villain, and she's dead, can't we just let her go down with the ship?" he asked.

"No," Sara said. "She's got a weak pulse, actually. And Amaya just got back with the jump ship. We can take her to the Waverider."

Oliver and Felicity followed them up the stairs to the main deck. As Mick and Sara were handing Alena into the jump ship, Curtis came running up. 

"I think we've got them cornered," he said. "Chase and William, I mean."

"You _think_?" Felicity frowned. 

"There's something jamming the sensors on my T-spheres." Curtis threw up his hands at Felicity's look. "Ok. Fine. My tech isn't perfect."

"It's ok," Oliver reassured him. "Just tell us where they are."

"They're on the top deck," Curtis said. "Somewhere. I don't know what Chase is doing."

"He's waiting for me," Oliver said. "I don't know why, and I don't know what he's going to do. But I think it will be bad." He clicked on his comms. "Anyone who is near the main deck: get on the jump ship with Sara's crew," he ordered. "I don't know what Adrian Chase has planned, but I'd rather have everyone else safe."

"I'm staying," Felicity said. "He lured both of us here. He's using tech from one of my old MIT professors." She pulled out her cell phone. "And I can track William with this, too."

Oliver wanted to argue, but he could see from the look on Felicity's face that she wasn't going to change her mind.

*

"William's definitely still on the boat," Felicity said, looking at her phone. She pulled out the robot-detector and pushed the button. Several flies fell to the ground.

"Why didn't the alarm go off?" Oliver frowned at the device.

"I switched it to silent mode," Felicity said. "I don't want Chase to hear it. I'll just keep using the bug-killer every time we go into a different part of the boat." 

Oliver nodded, then checked his quiver and flechettes. "Ready?"

"Ready." Felicity tucked her cell phone into her bra and handed her clutch to Sara.

"Someday, someone's going to make a killer dress with real pockets," Sara said. She was the only other person left on the boat, aside from Oliver, Felicity, and William. And Adrian Chase. If he counted. 

"You're staying on the main deck, right?" Oliver asked.

Sara nodded. "I'll stay out of sight, but in contact with the jump ship and the Waverider, as well as with you," she said. "I'll come up and help if you need a hand."

Oliver turned and led the way up the narrow stairs to the top deck. Felicity tapped the bug-killer every time they rounded a corner.

The top deck looked, from the outside, like there shouldn't be many hiding spaces. But that wasn't true. It was open, but covered by an awning, and there was a half-wall near the ship's bow, separating the main passenger area from the wheelhouse. Around the sides, tables and chairs were set up, but the middle of the deck was empty.

A dance floor. Alena had requested a dance floor. Felicity rolled her eyes.

Oliver worked his way cautiously around the outside, keeping his back to the railing, an arrow nocked and ready to shoot. Felicity followed, watching the outside of the boat, tapping the bug-killer occasionally.

Music suddenly blared from hidden speakers. Oliver jumped and spun around, looking for the source. Felicity pulled her phone from her bra.

"It's William," she said. "He's playing music from his phone."

Oliver nodded. "He knows we're here," he said. 

They moved quickly across the deck towards the ship's bow, taking advantage of the noise to cover the sounds of moving chairs and tables. They had nearly reached the wall when the music went silent again.

"Get up," Adrian Chase's voice said. "Wait. You can't. Your hands are tied now, aren't they."

Behind the wall, something shuffled, and then William appeared. His arms were pulled back, as if his hands were tied behind him. He rolled his shoulders and gave Felicity a look, trying to tell her something. But then Adrian stood up beside him.

"Your father's here to get you," Adrian said. "And... you must be Felicity. William's step-mother."

Oliver raised his bow.

"I wouldn't do that, Oliver," Adrian said. He nodded at the gun that he was pointing at William's head.

Oliver shifted his aim, ever so slightly, to point at Adrian's hand instead of his chest.

"How fast does an arrow fly?" Adrian asked. "I bet your wife could tell you. And I bet she could calculate the time that it would take for the arrow to reach me, compared to the amount of time it would take me to pull the trigger. The bullet going into William's brain wouldn't take any time at all."

Oliver lowered the bow. "What do you want, Adrian?" 

Felicity watched William. He was rolling his eyes, then looking at Adrian, then looking at her again.

But Adrian was focused on Oliver. "You backed me into a corner. Or perhaps your wife would prefer a different metaphor – you left me with only one card left to play." He shrugged. "You told the world you were married. You told the world that you were the Green Arrow. And you accused me of being a murderer."

"If you come in quietly, you'll get a fair trial..." Oliver started.

Adrian just started laughing. "Listen to yourself, Oliver. Acting like you're the one holding the last card." He looked at William, then at the rest of the boat. "I've got a gun to your son's head. And the entire boat is rigged with explosives. You may have saved your sister and your friends... but I've got your son. And your wife is clever, but I bet she hasn't figured out how to disarm all the bombs on this boat." 

Felicity glanced out towards the water. Her plan wasn't to disarm the bombs. But if they went off before the jump ship returned... well, that would be really bad.

William looked at her again. And then, he moved his arm slightly.

"Three hundred and fifty feet per second," Felicity said.

Adrian Chase blinked.

"You asked how fast an arrow flies," Felicity said. "About three hundred and fifty feet per second. Depends on the bow. Oliver is about thirty feet from you. Let's call it 300 feet per second, because it will take Oliver some time to pull the bowstring back. Though he's very fast. You should watch him with tennis balls sometimes."

William's other arm moved slightly. 

"But call it 300 feet per second, because it's easier to do that math. So from 30 feet away, it should take a tenth of a second for the arrow to reach you. The average human reaction time for a visual stimulus – that's seeing Oliver pull the string – is about a quarter of a second." Felicity shook her head at Adrian. "The arrow will hit your hand before you have time to react."

She was standing behind Oliver, but even from that angle, she could see his face twist into a smile.

"You could hope that Oliver misses," Felicity said. "But Oliver doesn't miss."

"Then maybe the gun should be closer to William's head," Adrian said, and straightened his arm until the muzzle of the gun touched William's temple.

William moved fast. He wrapped his arms around Adrian's, pulling the gun away from his head. He twisted his body, yanked the gun from Adrian's hand, and threw the gun across the floor. It landed near Felicity's feet. She instinctively picked it up.

Oliver released his arrow the moment that William pulled free, and suddenly Adrian was pinned to the boat's steering wheel. Oliver reached back, grabbed another arrow, and fired it. The ropes that exploded from the arrow tangled around Adrian's arms.

William scrambled over the low wall. "I didn't forget the zip tie trick," he said. He looked at Oliver. "And after the last time someone held a gun to my head, I took martial arts classes. I've been practicing."

"Good," Oliver said. "Good job. Now..."

As if on cue, Sara came running up the stairs. "The jump ship is here," she said.

It rose into view and hovered beside the deck.

"Come on, William," Sara said. "Have you ever wanted to hang out in a time machine?"

"I hope you don't get carsick," Felicity said. "Or time-sick."

William grinned at her, and followed Sara to the railing. Samantha and Amaya were at the jump ship door, ready to catch him. He leaped into their arms. 

"What do we do with him?" Felicity asked, looking at Adrian.

Adrian smiled creepily at her. "What will you do, indeed?" He leaned to the side. "Be careful of people who are cornered, Oliver," he said. "They can be a little... explosive."

He was reaching for a switch. Or a trigger. Or something that would set off the bombs.

Felicity lifted the gun that she had picked up. And before Oliver could grab another arrow, she fired. And then she walked towards Adrian, aimed, and fired again. And again. Until she pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

Oliver and Sara grabbed her arms.

"Even a gun doesn't kill instantly," Sara said. "Come on. Let's get to the jump ship."

Felicity was only faintly aware of Oliver and Sara dragging her across the dance floor and heaving her through the jump ship's door.

The jump ship was accelerating upwards when the boat erupted in flames.

*

Sara walked into the Waverider's library, where Felicity was sitting and reading and thinking. "The jump ship is on its way," Sara said.

"Where did Alena decide to go?" Felicity asked. "Or _when_ , I should say."

"I tried to convince her to go to 19th century England and see Jane Austen," Sara said. "But Ray and Nate were busy arguing about which part of history was the most like fairy tales. So I think they went looking for knights in shining armor, or maybe Robin Hood."

"I hope she doesn't end up getting the plague," Felicity shuddered.

Sara shrugged. "It's her choice," she said. "Though she might find out that knights and princesses are a lot less romantic than she expects."

"I half expect to get home and find out that dragons are currently ruling England," Felicity admitted.

"If they are, we'll deal with it," Sara said. She paused for a moment. "Ollie is with William," she said. "He has a lot of explaining to do."

"You mean Oliver has a lot of explaining. About being William's father. Because William already told us that he remembered being rescued back in Boston, and has been practicing ways to save himself," Felicity said. "How is he taking it?"

"William?" Sara asked. "Or Ollie? William seems fine. I think he had already been guessing why he and Samantha got invited to your wedding. But Ollie... he's a little awkward. He likes to be in control of his secrets. Even when he's sharing them."

Felicity nodded.

"How about you?" Sara asked.

"What do you mean?" Felicity replied.

"You shot Adrian Chase," Sara reminded her.

Felicity nodded in acknowledgement. "And now you're wondering if I've let the darkness in."

Sara shrugged. "Not so much that," she said. "I'm just asking how you're feeling."

"Like a hypocrite," Felicity confessed. "I spent years telling Oliver that he could be a better person. I even told him not to kill Slade Wilson – after Oliver's mother's death, and after Slade tried to destroy the entire city to get revenge on Oliver." She sighed. "I wonder what Oliver thinks of me now."

"He told me that you didn't have a choice," Sara said.

"That's not true," Felicity argued. "I could have shot Chase in the hand. Or let Oliver shoot him – Oliver's aim is better than mine. And Chase was even tied up. He couldn't get away." Her shoulders sagged. "And I didn't just shoot him once. I kept shooting him. Until I was out of bullets."

"That's true," Sara said. "But on the other hand, Adrian Chase deserved to die, after killing all those women."

" _Many that live deserve death_ ," Felicity said. " _And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?_ "

Sara shrugged. "If the Lazarus Pit still existed, I would be able to."

"That wasn't a real question," Felicity said. "It's from J.R.R. Tolkien."

"Oh, that's why it sounds familiar," Sara said. "I've met him."

Felicity blinked.

"Look," Sara said. "I travel through time. And every place I go, I make decisions about what to change, what to fix, who to save. Most of the time we screw it up – " She glanced at the walls, as if the ship would comment. " – but it's a choice that I make, almost every day." She shrugged. "I've learned to live with it. And try not to screw up so much the next time." 

Felicity nodded.

"Also..." Sara leaned against a chair. "We never told you why we were in Star City in 2020."

"You weren't depositing the marriage certificate?" Felicity asked.

Sara shook her head. "No. There was an anomaly." She raised her eyebrows at Felicity. "Women kept getting killed. People were disappearing from the timeline." She shrugged. "It was home, so I went to investigate. I didn't just find an empty bunker. All of you were gone – not just you and Oliver, but John and Lyla, Thea, my father. ARGUS was a mess. Adrian Chase was mayor."

"Adrian Chase could have survived? After blowing up the boat? And being accused of being a serial killer?" Felicity asked.

"Somehow," Sara said. "I don't know if he had a lifeboat planned, or if he ever went to trial, or what. I didn't look for details – we just grabbed Oliver's bow and went back to 2017." She looked at Felicity. "You might have killed Adrian Chase because you were angry, or scared, or you just wanted everything to end. But the result was that a lot of women lived. I think that's a good outcome." 

Felicity nodded slowly. "But I still wonder..." She stopped, then started again. "Oliver saw me kill a man in cold blood."

"And you're worried that he'll look at you differently." Sara tilted her head, like she was trying to think about it from a different perspective. "You know, Ollie used to want his women to be perfect. Well, the girlfriends that he acknowledged. He slept with a lot of bad girls, but he dated the good ones."

Felicity frowned, not sure where this was going.

"I was one of the bad ones," Sara said. "But I think – after years of screwing up – that Ollie has finally figured out that being a good person is his own responsibility. Not his girlfriend's. Not his wife's. And that leaves him free to love _you_ , perfect or not." She smiled. "And wow, does he love you." 

"No matter how many bullets I put in the District Attorney?" Felicity asked.

"No matter whether you kill an occasional bad guy," Sara said. "Or make mistakes. If the two of you are going to last as a vigilante power couple, he'd better be able to handle your flaws as well as your strengths."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like time travel - or speculative fiction with a romantic bent - I have an author to recommend. Connie Willis. She has a group of books about future historians who use time travel for their research. It's got a sense of humor and great use of language, and great characters. Felicity's comment about the plague is a reference to "The Doomsday Book," which is probably the most heart-rending of them. "To Say Nothing of the Dog" is more a comedy of manners, set in 19th century England, and "Blackout" and "All Clear" have a true-love-across-time theme that develops. And if you like more pure romance, "Crosstalk" is a love story and mystery involving telepathy.
> 
> I've heard people in the Olicity fandom say that they don't read books, or that there aren't any good books. There are a lot of them, but they don't always show up in your local bookstore. You have to go looking for them.


	38. Epilogue: Ever After

_~several months later~_  

"Left," Felicity said. "Now right. Ok. Now go straight." She paused. "Sit down first. Then open your eyes."

Oliver felt the couch beneath his legs, then looked around. "Wow," he said. "I didn't even knock the newspaper off the coffee table."

The paper lay there, open, showing the headline about the end of the months-long investigation of the mysterious exploding boat, and the rumors that District Attorney Chase had been on it. A teaser at the top of the page promised the first interview with the newly hired chief of police, Maggie Sawyer, who had come all the way from National City. Somewhere further in the back was the reason that Oliver and Felicity had bought the hard copy of the paper: an announcement of the engagement of Thea Queen to (recently declared not-dead) Roy Harper. 

Oliver looked up and smiled. 

Felicity grinned down at him. "You follow directions quite well."

He laughed. "I needed a break after a weekend trying to tell a pre-teen what to do."

"Samantha _did_ ask whether you were ready to try being a father, rather than someone who plays with action figures and occasionally shows up to rescue William from super-villains," Felicity said. "You had a chance to say no. She would have happily moved back to Central City instead."

Oliver huffed a laugh. "And I agreed. And I like it. But it's more work than I expected."

"You should probably give Samantha a lifetime supply of spa gift certificates," Felicity said. "To thank her for for the twelve years that she did all that work alone."

Oliver looked her in the eye. "You already sent something, didn't you."

Felicity shrugged. "It seemed like a good way to welcome someone to Star City. Plus my masseuse is awesome and was looking for new clients."

Oliver laughed again, then looked out at the skyline of the city. The sun was starting to set, and the rain clouds had parted just enough for the golden light to creep across the buildings. "It's nice to be back here," he said.

"In your city? Or in the loft?" Felicity asked.

"It's _our_ city," Oliver said. "And I meant the loft, but yeah. Both." He reached up and tangled his fingers through hers. "I love Bali. But I love Star City, too."

Felicity took the hint, and settled down beside him, playing with his fingers. Oliver switched hands so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. She leaned towards him and started kissing his neck.

"Is this part of the game?" Oliver asked. "Should I close my eyes again?"

Felicity's eyes darkened, but she shook her head. "I'll file that idea for later," she said. "But this time I want to have sex with our eyes open."

Oliver's pants suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. He tugged Felicity towards his lap. "Yes?" he teased.

Felicity climbed on top of him. "Hmm," she said. "Maybe the couch wasn't such a good idea. It's hard to lie back and have room for all of our arms and legs."

"We could go up to the bed," Oliver suggested.

But Felicity had already grabbed the remote that controlled the drapes on the huge window, and was standing up. "But there are so many great spots down here." 

Oliver stood and pulled off his shirt. 

Felicity nodded her approval. "Undressing, at least, is easier before sitting on the couch. Or lying on the couch."

He smiled and slipped his hands under the bottom of her blouse. 

And then he froze.

"What's wrong?" Felicity asked.

Oliver stood very still for a moment, then reached out and grabbed a fly.

"No super speed, but amazing reflexes," Felicity commented. "You've been practicing."

Oliver opened his hand, then tapped its wings with his other finger.

"Another robot?" Felicity frowned. "But Adrian Chase is dead, and Alena's somewhere in the past, hunting for fairy tales. Who's watching us now?"

Oliver lifted the fly to his eye. "I don't know," he said. 

 _I jumped back from the screen where I was watching the video feed from this fly, and all of the other bugs planted in the loft. Oliver's eye looked huge, and even more blue than I had realized._  

"Listen," Oliver growled. "Whoever you are. Stop spying on us."

Felicity leaned in beside him. The light glinted off her glasses. "Leave us alone," she said. 

_Both heads disappeared from my view as Oliver closed his hand around the fly again._

"I know what to do," Felicity said. "Here. Give it to me." 

_There was a flash of light as Oliver's hand opened, and then the view spun around as Felicity carried the fly somewhere. When the world stopped spinning, it showed me the grain of the hardwood floor, and little else._

"Ready?" Felicity asked.

"Ready," Oliver replied. 

_The plastic and metal crunched, rather than shattered, under a heel, and everything went dark._

_That was the last I ever saw of Oliver and Felicity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bye.


End file.
